


Partners

by Ghoulboyboos



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Blood Kink, Blood and Gore, Blowjobs, Choking / Breath Play, Flirting, Knifeplay, M/M, Mafia AU, Mob AU, People who are bad at feelings, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, Smoking, Smut, Unsafe Sex, Warnings for homophobic slurs in Ch.2, confusing feelings, working together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-06-16 15:52:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 47,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15440466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghoulboyboos/pseuds/Ghoulboyboos
Summary: He’s bouncing his leg because his new partner is late. Brent has a desk job now, because he nearly got decapitated on their last job and Ryan can’t really hold it against him. Brent is the type to have an actual future, maybe a wife and a couple of kids at some point and Ryan is sure that he’s not gonna get to live that out if he keeps working on the streets.-Ryan "NightNight" Bergara and Shane "Legs" Madej go on their first job together. It's almost romantic. What is their new partnership going to be like?Please regard the tags, there is blood, violence and a lot of sexual themes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I gave in and wrote Legs and NightNight. I consider NightNight a pretty violent kind of person, but more on the cruel side than on the explosive one. 
> 
> One Shot turned into a multichapter fic because I got no control!

Ryan Bergara sits in one of the heavy plush chairs his boss loves so much. He thinks they suck, because you can’t sit in them properly without sinking and when you wanted to get up, there was absolutely no dignified way to do it.

He’s bouncing his leg because his new partner is late. Brent has a desk job now, because he nearly got decapitated on their last job and Ryan can’t really hold it against him. Brent is the type to have an actual future, maybe a wife and a couple of kids at some point and Ryan is sure that he’s not gonna get to live that out if he keeps working on the streets.

The door behind him opens and he can hear the voice of his boss come closer. He makes to get out of the chair before he has to in front of others and straightens his suit. He rarely wears one, only when he goes to the headquarters. Outside, he prefers jeans and t-shirts and wrapped up knuckles. He doesn’t care that people comment on his rough exterior so much. Most who know who he is keep their mouth shut anyway.

His boss rounds the corner with a man in tow. The guy has to be about six and a half feet and Ryan catches himself trailing his eyes up the man’s legs from the ankle up. In general, the guy has pretty long limbs. Arms, fingers, all slim and long and Ryan’s smile twitches a bit. Not bad. He has fuzzy brown hair, a bit of a five-o-clock shadow and soft looking eyes. There’s a bit of a droop to them, not exactly sad, but it gives him a relaxed exterior. His boss lights up as he sees Ryan standing.

 

“There he is. Ryan “NightNight” Bergara, you probably have heard of him.”

The new guy nods curtly but he gives Ryan a smile.

“Shane Madej. They call me “Legs”, not sure why actually.”

He holds out his hand and Ryan suppresses a snort.

“Some of those names are really cryptic,” he plays along, shaking the proffered hand.

“Where does NightNight come from?”

Ryan grins.

“They send me when it’s time for people to go night-night, I make sure they do.”

The eyebrows of “Legs” twitch upwards a little.

“I see.”

“Legs is one of our best new ones,” the boss supplies. “He’s a great cleaner.”

NightNight Bergara always needs a cleaner. He knows he’s messy, but it still feels like chastising that the boss sends one with him almost every time. But he doesn’t bring it up.

Instead, he claps Legs on the arm and nods.

“Let’s go then.”

 

-

 

NightNight is driving and Legs is not allowed to touch his radio. Apparently, that’s not that big of a deal, though.

They spend a couple minutes casing the building. NightNight spends most of the time watching Legs work, check the exterior and occasionally look up something on his phone.

“So.” Legs finally breaks the silence. “Who are you gonna murk?”

Ryan snorts at the wording.

“He’s called Scott. Could be his first or his last name, maybe both. He borrowed a ton of money and didn’t give it back. When the collectors came, he ran. Lives under a fake name here.”

“My brother’s named Scott.”

“…did he take a loan from the mob?”

“Probably not. Would be a fun family reunion, I bet.” Legs cranes his neck to glance up the building. “How far up?”

“Last floor. Hope those legs work out for ya, because I’m sure they got no lift.”

Legs shrugs.

“They gotta be good for something, right?”

 

-

 

They take their time walking up. NightNight checks the gun in his arm holster, makes sure it’s full and keeps it in his hand after. Legs doesn’t grab one, but he is wearing a light suit jacket over the colorful shirt so he probably has one stashed _somewhere_.

“So. What got you involved in this business?”

Shane chuckles.

“Someone broke into my apartment to take out my roommate. I think he stole from a street dealer and sold it himself.”

“Crack?”

“I don’t remember. Something that fucked up people big time anyway. I caught the guy who smashed his head and instead of killing me right away, he asked if I wanted to help clean up. So I did.”

“Just like that?”

“Eh.” Legs makes a vague gesture with his hand. “It was much less of a mess than my roommate usually left so it was fine.”

NightNight is actually laughing. It’s a lot lighter and clearer than his usual low and quiet growl of a voice. He notices Legs is looking at him from the corner of his eye but the tall guy seems genuinely cheery that he made NightNight laugh. Interesting.

 

He almost regrets when they reach the top of the staircase.

“So.” He fixes the door with a look before looking at his partner. “Can you open doors, Legs?”

“Well…” Legs presses his shoulder experimentally against the wood. White paint chips off the front.

“I can open doors, but not careful and quiet. It’ll be audible.”

Ryan shrugs and loads his gun.

“I don’t think we’re gonna be quiet.”

“In that case…”

 

Legs positions himself in front of the door and sets his right foot under the lock, just pressing slightly. NightNight takes a step back and enjoys the view of Shane’s jeans pulling taut over his ass.

Legs pushes off a little and then shoves his foot with some unexpected strength against the spot of the lock and with a _crack_ , part of the doorframe splinters and the door flies open. It hits the wall of a slim corridor and swings back a bit. Ryan is in right away, gun ready. He hears Legs follow him with a bit of distance.

Scott’s in the living room. He’s backed against a closet with a sawed-off shotgun in his arms that he cradles more like a baby and he is screaming the second Ryan comes into view. NightNight Bergara doesn’t really have time to speak or get into things because the guy immediately lowers the gun and scrambles for the trigger. Ryan shoots him in the arm, the blast goes wide and in the edge of his vision he can see Legs take a step back behind the door frame before splinters of plaster and wood flies past him. NightNight allows himself a glance at his partner. Shane looks calm, but a bit taken aback at the sudden backlash. He is completely unharmed which is good.

He walks over to Scott and pushes the shotgun away with his foot. Then he plants his shoe right on the bullet hole and ignores the agonized screaming for a second to relish the feeling of bones creaking underneath his step.

“Time’s up, Scotty. You could have just fessed up but nah, you had to run. Now they sent me to hurtcha.”

Scott’s mostly babbling and sobbing so Ryan turns to his partner. Legs is standing closer, but with a couple steps between them, just out of range of the splash zone.

“That’s not your brother, right?”

Legs smirks.

“Nope. Too short.”

“Is everyone in your family this freakishly tall?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“God.”

 

Ryan puts his gun away and shoves his knee against Scott’s sternum. The man starts to scrabble at his leg in panic, smearing blood in his jeans and NightNight watches the washed out blue fabric get smudged with crimson and smiles.

“It’s fine man, relax. Time to go NightNight.”

He puts his hands around Scott’s throat and presses his thumbs in. Scott grabs at anything he can reach, slapping and clawing at Ryan while the man above him is watching his face with a mildly interested expression.

NightNight’s in his zone. He feels the windpipe and bones give way underneath his fingers, watches the face in front of him change slowly. Lips turning blue, eyes bulging and froth appearing around the mouth. He sees the life slowly drain from the man’s eyes as if someone is turning down the saturation of a picture. He smiles to himself as he feels something break in his grasp. There are scratches all over the back of his hands and he enjoys the burn. This, he thinks, this is as close to heaven as a human can get.

Scott goes limp underneath him. NightNight keeps his fingers on his throat till he is sure that there is no trace of breathing or a heartbeat anymore. Then slowly, reluctantly he pulls back and stands up. He feels lightheaded, as always, as if high. Something thrums in his chest and there is just a hint of arousal that makes his body tingle. He looks over his shoulder.

Legs Madej stands in the middle of the room, eyes fixed on Ryan. His pupils are blown wide, his mouth stands open just a bit and Ryan can hear that his breathing has sped up. Shane’s hands are shoved in his pockets and they look like they are clenching into fists on his legs. Ryan licks his lips, only half on purpose and sees with delight how Shane’s eyes follow the little flick of the tongue.

 

“So- Legs. Your turn, I think?”

To Shane’s credit, he instantly snaps to action. He gabs the shotgun, throws it on Scott’s body and starts to wrap the man into the living room carpet. The blood from his shoulder has soaked into the planks, but he doesn’t seem to bother with them yet.

“Help me with this, for a sec.”

Ryan grabs one end of the carpet roll and helps Shane to drag it over to the window. He risks a glance outside as Shane opens it. There is a garbage truck with an open roof right in front of the place and he lifts an eyebrow.

“My team.” Shane supplies. “They’re heading towards a landfill.”

“I see.”

 

Together, they lift the body with a bit of struggle. Counting one, two, three, they swing it back and forth, picking up momentum before they throw the body through the window. It’s the back of the building, all around are just grey walls, so it’s unlikely someone’s going to see anything. And even if, this area is full of people who know they better keep their mouths shut.

Shane closes the window again, keeping his hand in his sleeve for it.

“There’s a gas tank in the kitchen. Can you unplug it and get it here?”

NightNight is about to refuse. He’s not the cleaner. But something about the way the request is voiced makes him give in. Legs is a comfortable guy to hang around, maybe helping wasn’t too bad.

He finds the tank right where Shane told him. It’s heavy and he feels his muscles strain as he is carrying it back into the living room. Legs is on his hands and knees, picking up something from under the closet.

“Whatcha got there?”

Legs holds it up. It’s a black button.

“It’s yours. He ripped it off when he was struggling.”

Ryan is frozen for a moment, mouth open and when Shane carefully slips the button in his chest pocket, he looks down. His suit jacket had three buttons. Now there were two and a spot with a single thread hanging off. He feels like flushing, this was something that didn’t happen to professionals, even if he had a cleaner to rely on. Ryan has rarely felt this compromised before.

“Don’t worry about it.” Legs is the first one to speak because Ryan really doesn’t know what to say.

“I can’t squeeze someone’s life out of them, not even with these stupid legs. You are great at your job, I’m great at mine.”

He’s still standing close, picking an invisible piece of lint off of Ryan’s shoulder.

They look at each other for a moment and Ryan realizes he hasn’t been rendered speechless for years.

 

“You got a light?”

Ryan frowns and digs in his pocket for his lighter.

Shane takes it from him with delicate, long fingers and turns to the little side table next to one of the living room chairs. A single candle sits in a candlestick. Ryan frowns at it as Shane lights it.

“What’s that for?”

“It’s our wick. You’ll see.”

Legs steps over and starts to open the gas tank. The hiss of the LPG escaping fills the room and the familiar stench hits NightNight’s nose.

“Time to go.”

He follows Legs out of the tiny flat. Legs closes the door as good as he can behind them and starts trotting down the stairs.

“Normally I do more. But the boss just wanted to make sure people don’t really get who the guy is straight away.”

“Alright.” Ryan admits he’s curious about this man’s work. “How long do we have?”

Shane checks his wristwatch.

“Five minutes. Eh. Make it four.”

He smirks at Ryan as they leave the building.

“Enough for a cigarette. You want one?”

 

A pack is held into NightNight’s periphery and he takes one. Before he can reach for his lighter, Shane’s long arm reaches in and flicks it in front of his face. Ryan allows him to light the smoke, breathing in a long drag.

They sit in the car and smoke. Once NightNight realizes that Legs eyes flicker to his mouth whenever he takes a drag, he makes sure to suck on the smoke a bit more. A tiny bit of tobacco gets caught on his bottom lip and instead of spitting it off, he flicks his tongue out to push it away.

He hears Legs choke on his cigarette next to him and grins.

After they pull out of the driveway, the building behind them is hit with a blast as several of the upstairs windows blow out. Legs watches what he can see of the carnage in the rear view mirror, as oft little smile on his face. It’s almost cute.

“You wanna grab a drink, tall guy?”

Legs smiles at him.

“I’d like that. I have to warn you tho, I get a bit… grabby when I’m drunk. Don’t murk me, alright?”

Ryan lowers his voice and drops into his NightNight growl.

“I like it grabby.”

He’s pretty sure the man next to him shivers. He’s also pretty sure it’s only 10% out of actual fear.

This was going to be _fun_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legs appreciates bourbon and soda and that makes him very alright in NightNight’s book. They sit in a dark little bar outside of the immediate vicinity of the place they just blew up and sip their drinks in comfortable silence. Above the bartender, a TV is mounted to the wall and it’s set on a news channel that is currently showing shaky footage of a familiar building. Smoke is rolling out of the upper floor windows and the fire department is trying to keep onlookers out of their way.
> 
> He glances over at Legs, who is clearly not interested in watching the news and instead plays with his phone. NightNight glances on the screen and sees head shots of men swipe past as Legs moves his thumb. For a second he thinks it’s targets, till he spots the familiar color scheme of the website.
> 
> “Dude.”  
> Madej looks up, blinking.  
> “Hm?”  
> “Are you… are you on Grindr?”  
> Legs pauses and shuts his phone off without looking.  
> “Is that a problem?”  
> “No.” Ryan snorts. “I’m just hurt that I’m that horrible at keeping you company if you use the time here to pick out a hookup.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I hadn't planned on continuing this. But things happen.  
> This is nearing serious E territory so I'll update the rating once Chapter 3 comes out. I think I still dodged it this time but I'll change it if you guys think I should. 
> 
> Listen. I know people think NightNight is the one with the knives. But I think if anything that's more Ricky Goldsworth. Legs however, is all about his limbs, so a sharp extention of them makes sense to me.
> 
> WARNINGS! Because there are some shit people in the world there is homophobic slurs (like f-g and f---ot) in here. It's said by someone who sucks and will get his comeuppance but still, he says nasty shit so take care! If you are sensitive to these slurs or have a bad day, maybe don't read it.  
> Also more blood, death and people getting an UNCOMFORTABLE LOT into murdering. And they smoke. Smoking's bad, don't do it. These boys are in a dangerous line of work and probably will die young anyway and also it's a fictional story so I can milk the visual. But don't smoke in real life.

Legs appreciates bourbon and soda and that makes him very alright in NightNight’s book. They sit in a dark little bar outside of the immediate vicinity of the place they just blew up and sip their drinks in comfortable silence. Above the bartender, a TV is mounted to the wall and it’s set on a news channel that is currently showing shaky footage of a familiar building. Smoke is rolling out of the upper floor windows and the fire department is trying to keep onlookers out of their way.

 

He glances over at Legs, who is clearly not interested in watching the news and instead plays with his phone. NightNight glances on the screen and sees head shots of men swipe past as Legs moves his thumb. For a second he thinks it’s targets, but then he spots the familiar color scheme of the website.

 

“Dude.”

Madej looks up, blinking.

“Hm?”

“Are you… are you on Grindr?”

Legs pauses and shuts his phone off without looking.

“Is that a problem?”

“No.” Ryan snorts. “I’m just hurt that I’m so horrible at keeping you company that you use the time here to pick out a hookup.”

That makes Madej chuckle and he pockets his phone.

“Don’t worry, man. I’m just checking who messaged me. You should be glad you didn’t see the first couple of images.”

NightNight takes a sip without looking away from Legs. He can imagine the content of the pictures.

“You think that would make me uncomfortable?”

Legs pauses and fixes him with a look. It’s a calculating expression and NightNight can practically see their interactions so far replay behind those eyes. They’re pretty eyes. Even in the shitty lighting this place has, he can see that they are a pretty shade of brown, lighter than NightNight’s own, which are almost black and make people uncomfortable when he stares at them for too long. Legs doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, Legs seems very happy to stare back.

“I doubt it. Unpretty dicks are probably not the worst you’ve seen.”

NightNight chuckles.

“Nothing good, then?”

Madej lifts his glass and takes a long sip, never taking his eyes off of Bergara. He’s slow and deliberate in his moves, placing the glass on the bar before he swallows and NightNight can see that Adam’s apple bob hard.

“Not on Grindr, no.”

_Well._

 

Ryan is about to lean into the other man’s space, maybe put a hand on his knee or something when he hears a laugh behind him. It’s not the usual laugh he hears in bars like this, barks of mirth about jokes or maybe a buddy messing up and pouring beer all over himself. It’s also not the giggles the few women in this place seem to favor when they wanna boost their man’s self esteem. It’s a gross, dirty laugh intended to mock or punish and NightNight slowly turns on his bar stool to look at the source.

 

A guy with a neck as wide as his head, about six feet tall and not exactly a beauty queen stands behind them, too close to just pass by to get to the bar. He is deliberately in their space and the two knuckleheads behind him that are the best adult variant of Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle he has ever seen also don’t look like they just want a refill. Neck-guy wears a dirty wife beater and even dirtier jeans and completes the look with cyclist gloves and army boots. He looks like the everyday kind of muscle their boss would hire, except maybe the type who hasn’t yet learned the difference between a good and a bad idea.

 

“Did I hear that right?”

The dude points a finger at Legs who lifts an eyebrow and seems more amused than worried.

“This guy’s a faggot?”

 

 _Okay_...

 

NightNight has a temper. He always had one. When kids in school bullied him because they didn’t like his skin color or that he spoke Spanish and Japanese or that his parents were immigrants, he would eventually beat them up till they begged for mercy. It was the first but definitely not the last time he got in trouble for flying off the handle. His parents had tried to reel him in, teach him to ignore bullies and racists and other trash some called humans but he can’t. If someone runs their mouth, they have to expect to get punched into it. He has patience. If one of the rambling homeless guys follows him around and talks about how God told him the future is outside of L.A. and that the rapture will come soon, Bergara gives the weirdo a dollar and sends him on his merry way. When a salesperson calls and talks his ear off he hangs up and doesn’t trace the call to rip the tongue out of their head. He can manage. His boss knows he can manage.

 

But personal insults are like switching the safety off on his gun. It’s preparation for a fight. He flares his nostrils, almost smelling blood already and his fist clenches on the table. Before he can get up, however, Legs places a hand on his arm and stops him.

 

“That’s not the word I would use, but yes, I do prefer men. Not necessarily you, in case that’s your way of asking, but I’m flattered you’re that interested in my personal life.”

Madej’s voice is calm, almost jovial and NightNight feels the red mist that has filled his head disperse a little. He knows, they are not out of a potential fight, yet, especially because Neck-guy pushes his lower jaw forward and his two bushy brows pull together into one.

 

“Are you trying to fuck me, fag?”

Legs eyebrows twitch upward but his expression stays calm and open.

“No, sorry. You’re not really my type. And for further reference: I’d prefer you don’t use that word if you don’t know what it means, it’s not something we like to hear.”

“Well too bad, faggot, because I think I will keep using it while I beat your ass. Maybe I’ll break your neck and throw you in the gutter so anyone can see what happens to perverts like you hanging out here.”

 

Legs whistles through his teeth. His hand is still on NightNight’s arm and when Ryan tries to stand up again he is quickly pulled back into his seat. Neck notices.

“Yeah listen to your girlfriend, _chico_ , he’s got the right idea if you wanna stay alive and suck another cock.”

 

Bergara feels more than he sees Madej roll his eyes.

 

“Alright.” Legs’ voice is a lot less conversational and sounds much more like business. _Thank fuck._

“That’s going a bit too far. I wanted to keep this calm because I like this bar and I don’t wanna be banned from it, but you guys need to leave.”

 

Neck and his lackeys laugh. They look at each other and laugh some more as if making sure they’re allowed to before Neck turns back to them.

“We’re gonna make you two leave. In body bags if I can.”

 

Legs sighs. He turns back to the bartender who has retreated towards the door reading private. NightNight notices that the other patrons have left the bar. Smart move on their part.

“I’m really sorry about this.” For a moment, Ryan sees only Shane. Not “Legs Madej” the cleaner. Just a random dude in a bar who gets in a fight and feels really bad about the trouble the bartender will be in.

“I’ll pay for any damages, I promise.”

 

And with that, he lets NightNight go.

 

_Finally!_

 

NightNight’s feet hit the ground and he immediately falls into a crouch. He can see out of the corner of his eyes that those long legs move to the side and something thin and sharp and metallic slips out of Madej’s sleeve.

 

_Knife. Or maybe an ice pick._

 

The thought of Shane hovering over him, dragging sharp objects over his skin with perfect precision, not cutting, just tracing comes into his mind and NightNight shakes his head. He can indulge in fantasies later. Right now, he gets to hit some people.

 

His fingers dip into his jeans pocket. He dimly remembers, as the rough fabric brushes the back of his hand, that there are still stripes of Scott’s blood on the legs and the back of his hand stings as the scratched skin is pushed against the edge of the pocket. Warm steel touches his fingertips and Ryan’s eyes flutter. He sees the movement of “Crabbe” because the guy is not a trained boxer and his punch is wide and NightNight can see it coming a mile ago. He ducks out of the way, watches Crabbe lose balance and slips the knuckle duster in his pocket over his fingertips. He pulls his hand up, makes a fist and relishes in the feeling of the metal settling in the familiar position.

 

_Crack_

 

NightNight hits Crabbe under the jaw. The steel splits open skin and he feels part of the bone give way. A tooth is knocked loose and for a second he sees a speck of blood flying. It’s exhilarating and he steps out of the way slowly, brushing the balls of his feet over the ground like his uncle – well, _sensei –_ taught him many many years ago and he sees out of the corner of his eyes the long-limbed shape of Legs. Madej has Neck move into his personal space, while Goyle apparently noticed his other buddy fall and moves in on Ryan. Neck makes a grab for Shane and even though it should be easy to catch a part of this ridiculously tall guy, Legs slips out of the grasp, does a half turn and _moves_. It’s likes seeing and action movie sequence. The turn is slow, almost as if time holds its breath and then the tension is released with a lash as Legs slices whatever he’s holding through the air and Neck stumbles backwards. He’s clutching his arm which doesn’t do much because a cut the length of his forearm has opened the skin and blood flows through it steadily. Must be a deep one.

 

Ryan is distracted, which rarely happens, but Legs is such a sight, moving quick and precise like a surgeon on a battlefield and if violence and fighting wouldn’t already make Ryan go half-hard, this would do the trick. He smells blood and is delighted that it was Madej who caused it because there is rarely a more exciting smell to NightNight Bergara. However, distraction is bad, because he loses track of Goyle and only sees him again when the fucker clocks him in the side of the head with a bottle.

 

It shatters and Ryan is drenched in bourbon.

 

_What a waste._

His head stings and he feels the familiar sticky warmth of blood running over his eyebrow and temple as he gut-punches Goyle in retaliation. The tall fuck doubles over and NightNight cracks the knuckle dusters into the back of his head, causing him to fall. He steps over the guy, drops his knees in to his back and pulls his hand up slowly.

 

He punches him again, same spot, causing the small laceration rip into a big one. Blood splatters in his face and he instinctively flicks out his tongue to taste at it. As he hits a third time, he hears bone splinter and his breath settles. Calm washes over him as he hits again. And again. It’s a comfortable rhythm to work in and the pain that rattles through the bones of his right hand feels so good he wants to sing. His opponents skull gives way and Ryan is bent over by now, breathing deep breaths of elation and arousal and his right hand is sticky and caked in gore. God, he needs to jerk off.

 

Slowly he stumbles to his feet, looks over at Crabbe and imagines digging his fingertips into the flesh of that throat, breaching the useless layers of five-o-clock shadow and skin before something in the back of his head reminds him:

 

_Legs_

 

He turns, tries to focus. Not again. NightNight gets distracted. Impulse control is not his forte and he usually doesn’t care. But he does care about Legs who likes to see Ryan work, who has kept his lighter even though nobody takes shit from NightNight and gets away with it and who has changed the station on their way back without any comment about the serious threats Ryan has made towards him when they first got in the car. Nobody touches his radio unless he says so. Apparently, Legs Madej was an exception.

 

And apparently, Legs Madej was fine being left to his own devices while NightNight zones out. The floor boards are splattered with more blood and Neck has crashed into two tables to Ryan’s right, sitting, cursing and bleeding in the debris while Legs stands near the bar, twirling a stiletto knife in his fingers and just waits. He’s not hurt, based on what NightNight can tell, but his clothing is rumpled and there is an attractive sheen of sweat on his face. Bergara sure wants to make him look like that sometimes.

 

“You fucking- _bitch!_ ” Neck screeches, clearly panicking as he’s cornered, even though Legs doesn’t even move. He glances over, probably thinking about calling his buddies for help and his eyes bug out as he sees what’s left of Goyles head. Ryan slowly takes two steps back and one to the left and lowers himself next to Crabbe’s unconscious form. He looks up and meets Shane’s eyes, sees his mouth open slightly and excitement spark in his face. Neither of them pays much attention to Neck, who is still sitting and bleeding from several deep cuts and Ryan wonders if the fuck's vision is blurring already. It doesn’t matter. He’s not gonna put on a show for the guy. He might put on a show for Legs, however.

 

Ryan nudges Crabbe’s smashed chin up and places his thumbs against the Adam’s apple. He pushes in, tensing his fingers till the nails dig into skin and leans on his arms a little. He looks up. Legs eyes are focused on him, flickering between Ryan’s face and his hands, watches as Crabbe turns purple and when Ryan’s nails draw blood he can hear Shane gasp across the room. He looks up.

 

Legs licks his lips. Neck uses the distraction and tries to get up but Shane’s head whips around and flicks the stiletto at him, hitting the guy square in the forehead. Neck freezes, breathes out and collapses on his side, breaking more furniture and blood starts to pour out of his noggin, slicking the floor.

 

NightNight flinches as the throat under his thumbs gives way and he manages to push in a little more. There is a gurgle coming from Crabbe and something bobs under his thumb pads so Ryan leans on it, starts squishing the windpipe and lets the sounds of the man underneath choking mingle with the shallow but hissing breaths that come from Legs as he’s watching. When Crabbe goes limp under him, Ryan’s vision blurs. Part of it is the feeling of life being crushed under his fingers which drags a wonderful shudder down his spine, makes him want to tear and break and taste blood in his mouth. But what also seeps into his vision is the blood from the cut on his brow. It drips onto Crabbe’s corpse and soaks into his shirt. Ryan looks up slowly, sees Legs chewing through his bottom lip, one hand digging nails into his thigh and his pants don’t hide anything. Legs is at least as excited as NightNight is.

 

_Fuck_

 

They would have to clean up first before they could address that.

 

-

 

Legs Madej is, indeed, one of the best cleaners the boss could have sent with him. He shuts down the bar and hides the corpses in the drinks storage while also calming down the owner and preventing him from calling the police. Their colleagues show up. To their credit, they don’t ask how it happened. They merely vanish in the storage area and later return with several bags. Two people in full body suits appear, carrying various containers and they throw NightNight and the bartender out while talking to Legs.

 

The man looks terrified. He steals glances at Ryan, here and there, as if he expects him to suddenly snap and rip his head off. It’s the look NightNight goes for, but right now, he feels a little bad about it. Maybe it was because Legs had been so honestly apologetic about making a mess. He offers the man a cigarette, realizes that he doesn't have a lighter and opts for a packet of matches instead. The bartender is so jumpy that he flinches when the flame gets close to his face. But he settles at least a little bit when he inhales his first breath.

 

“Don’t worry.” NightNight finally says, making the man jump again. “My partner knows how to clean up messes. Nobody will notice a thing. And he’s gonna pay you for the damages. He means that.”

 

Ryan actually doesn’t know if Shane does, but he has the feeling he’s right with promising it. The owner of the bar still looks terrified.

 

“Are you not gonna kill me?”

 

NightNight chuckles, which he knows is not a relaxing sound, but he stands up straight and presses the handkerchief Shane has given him earlier against the still bleeding wound on his head.

 

“No. I normally would not have killed these guys, just roughed them up. I got a little carried away.”

 

He doesn’t know why he’s telling the man this. Maybe because he knows Legs can hear him, because the guy has been standing close to the door and waiting in the past 30 seconds. He’s probably planning a good entry. NightNight can appreciate a small amount of theatrics in the right circumstances.

 

-

 

They leave the freshly cleaned and blood-free bar after Legs has produced a roll of dollar bills out of his pocket and left the bartender with his best wishes. He adds, that he would like to come back, because the bourbon is great and the man behind the bar has his wits about himself enough to say he will order something extra for the two of them. Legs smiles at that and NightNight feels an odd flutter in his stomach.

 

“Do you want to clean yourself up, too?”

NightNight opens the door of his car. He had one bourbon, so driving shouldn’t be a problem. But it still loosens his tongue enough to continue talking:

“Because you could do that at my place. My shower’s big.”

 

The implications are pretty obvious and Shane catches on, based on his smile.

 

“Sounds good.”

 

-

 

While Shane showers, Ryan has time to reflect on the situation. They have just killed three people that weren’t even huge trouble. They could have just knocked them out instead. Maybe it could get them in trouble with the law or their boss, but Ryan just couldn’t feel any remorse. Not only had he done it out of personal hurt, he had also wanted to defend _Shane._ There clearly was more to Legs than he let on, but that was a typical side effect of their business.

 

Something that wasn’t a side effect, was both of them getting a little _too much_ into the sight of their partner offing someone. Legs moving with the stiletto had done things to Ryan he would have to explore in the bedroom. Whether his partner was going to join him or not was yet to be seen, but it definitely had piqued his interest. The blood Shane had spilled had gotten him more riled up than any Ryan had smelled before and as much as he adored squeezing the life out of someone, it was so much more exciting when Shane was watching him.

 

NightNight gets pulled out of his thoughts when the door to the bathroom opens. Steam wafts out and Shane stands there, a small towel for modesty around his hips and still damp. His skin is reddened as if he has showered with almost boiling water and there are a few angry welts on his chest. Possibly spots where Neck has punched him while Ryan had been occupied.

 

He doesn’t even try to be subtle, he devours Legs with his eyes, taking in the relatively wiry frame with an extra little pouch on his stomach that doesn’t diminish his attractiveness in the least. Legs is staring back, tension palpable and as NightNight stands up and slowly walks over he can see fingers tighten in the towel.

 

They are very close as he brushes past Shane, their eyes never leaving each other and he almost hates that he has to close the door in the man’s face. Shower first. He was sweaty and caked in blood. As he stands under the spray and scrubs his hands he admires the scratches and bruises that he added to his form. His right knuckles are a little blue where the knuckle duster had smashed into them and he presses onto the bruise and groans with delight. His head wound slowly opens again and the water turns pink, causing him to curse and turn off the shower. He grabs his towel and presses it against his head, standing in the bathroom and waiting for it to stop bleeding.

 

There is a knock on the door and it opens slowly because Ryan had seen no reason to lock it. Shane steps in, wearing only his boxers and carrying a first aid kid. He stops in the door and lets himself take in Ryan’s form. Ryan makes no move to protect his modesty. He simply lifts the towel a little.

 

“It started bleeding again.”

“I figured it would. I can patch you up, if you want me to.”

“You know how to do that?”

“I know how to stem a bleeding, at least. I can’t give you stitches, but you might not need them if we work well enough.”

 

Ryan hums. He realizes that it’s hard to fall into his NightNight persona in his home, which has never been a problem before. Legs wasn’t the only colleague he ever brought over and definitely not the first he thought about fucking. But he had the feeling that they had glimpsed part of each other’s souls today and that made it very… personal.

 

“Alright.” He finally says. “Want to work here or in my bedroom?”

“I can work better if you lie down.”

“Bedroom it is, then.”

 

He keeps the towel against the cut and pushes past Shane. A lot of naked skin brushes against a lot of equally naked skin and he shudders with delight. Shane is warm and tall and a lot of him is leg. Ryan wonders if he would wrap those legs around him, if he would allow Ryan to fuck him. His dick, which has calmed a little since the bar brawl twitches with interest and he pushes the thoughts out of his head for now. He can’t distract Shane with a boner while the guy is trying to fix a head injury.

 

_Later. There's always later.  
_

 

He can barely think of Shane as Legs here, despite having a perfect view on the origin of the name. Legs Madej is dressed a little ridiculously but well, stands tall in the background, takes in the place as a whole as if taking inventory and makes level-headed decisions. Shane is almost naked in Ryan’s flat and wants to patch up an injury Ryan got by fighting for them in a personal affair and he doesn’t have a problem with Ryan being completely naked and he is looking at him with interest and in a way that makes Ryan recall the shallow excited breaths while he is crushing someones esophagus and the visible tent in Shane’s pants where those long legs meet the hip.

 

Ryan lies down on his bed. He rolls on his back and places the towel besides his face so the blood doesn’t trickle onto the sheets. It wouldn’t be the first time they got smeared with blood, but he wants to be a good host and make the bed inviting enough that Shane would consider getting into it.

 

Shane places the first aid kit on the nightstand and sits next to Ryan, close enough so his knee touches Ryan’s ribs.

 

“Okay, NightNight. Lemme check that.”

His fingertips are cool as they settle around the wound and pull carefully. It stings and Ryan hisses, more out of instinct than pain, but Shane still backs off a little.

“Looks like it just burst open. He should have given you the bourbon instead of smashing it over your head.”

Ryan laughs.

A cool cotton ball is pressed against the wound and he grunts as the smell of disinfectant hits his nose and burns on the cut. Shane is careful, just patting softly against the wound instead of rubbing. Ryan would have been a lot quicker and more practical. He can’t deny that it feels nice being treated so carefully, but he just isn’t used to it.

 

“You can hurry up, Legs. I’m not a wimp.”

Shane chuckles.

“I never said you were. I just want to pay you back for defending my honor earlier.”

Ryan snorts but Shane doesn’t laugh.

“I mean it. You were the closest thing to a knight in shining armor in that situation.”

“I really wasn’t. I just thought a piece of shit like that guy has overstayed his welcome.”

“Well. Either way, thank you.”

Shane peels butterfly bandages from the package and sticks to of them onto Ryan’s forehead. The cut still stings as it’s pulled together, but he feels less split open now. Something about Shane’s thanks makes him hold back a comment. He feels weirdly good about aiding a partner with something. It’s a relatively rare feeling for him. Usually he feels good when he does his own work well or after he sent someone to go night-night. But now he feels definitely happy about defending Shane. Weird.

 

Shane puts a patch over the cut, covering the butterflies and the cut. He carefully presses the sticky area to Ryan’s skin and it’s a surprisingly nice feeling, almost a massage.

 

“There we go. That should be better.”

He picks up the trash of the paper that had covered the sticky areas and Ryan reaches up to feel the patch.

“Already stopped stinging. You’re a good nurse.”

Shane snorts.

“I don’t think the uniform would suit me.”

He gets up to take the first aid kid back to its original place, but Ryan notices that Shane gives him a sway of the hips when talking about a nurse garb.

Ryan shifts and sits up to watch Shane leave his bedroom.

 

Here was the problem.

 

He is relatively sure Shane would be up for a roll in the hay. If he got up and followed Shane and slammed him against the corridor wall they would most definitely end up fucking. But that was boring and not very exciting. Today had been exciting and Ryan wants to bring that feeling back. He needs to see Shane hot and bothered again, just like when he watched Ryan choke someone to death. He wants to see Shane and his stiletto – which he knows his partner took with him again – and what else he could do with it. He wants the smell of blood and danger in his bedroom mixed with the sounds he knows Shane can make and any other he might also find out about. He wants to wind up his partner so much the guy all but begs Ryan to fuck him. It sounds so much more fun than just jumping his bones in the hallway.

 

So he waits. And sure enough, he hears footsteps come back to the bedroom.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane’s breath tickles Ryan’s lips and he swallows instinctively.
> 
> “What am I?”
> 
> “You’re intoxicating. They way you can break someone’s neck with your fingers… the way you are ready to stand in front of a shotgun blast as if nothing can touch you. You’re so fucking hot and … I think you’re the closest to heaven I’ll ever be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no other way of telling you this: This chapter is where the sex happens and not much more. Not quite PWP because of some character points, but mostly.
> 
> Some warnings: Rough sex, unsafe sex (seriously, guys, use protection), mentions of choking and knife play and bloodplay but nothing serious yet. Also they drink some more.

Shane reappears in the door. He leans against the door frame, arms behind his back and looks at Ryan. He doesn’t seem to have a problem with Ryan being completely nude so Ryan sees no reason to change. Sitting cross-legged on his bed, he stares at Shane, waiting for his partner to make the first move.

Finally, Shane opens his mouth:

 

“I’ll reimburse you for this… but I thought you might want to keep drinking?”

He pulls a bottle of Ryan’s favorite single malt from behind his back and reveals that his other hand is holding two whiskey glasses. One of Shane’s eyebrows twitches, maybe inquisitive, maybe suggestive, Ryan’s not sure. Either way, he likes the idea, so he simply pats the mattress next to him invitingly. Shane smirks and crosses the room before settling next to him. Those long legs twist till he finds a comfortable position, half leaning against Ryan and then he is handing him the glasses. Ryan holds them still while Shane pours them each a drink and then sets the bottle on the bedside table. He takes one glass from Ryan and they clink them together before taking a sip each. Shane hums in approval, holding up the glass.

“You have great taste.”

 

Ryan grins. He allows himself to leer at Shane, taking in the pale chest and long limbs. He’s not exactly toned or fit, but Ryan has seen what the guy can do, how he fights and moves and that is worth so much more than a six pack. He keeps his eyes on the other man and takes a slow sip, licking his lips afterwards.

“That I do. I like to treat myself to the odd vice.”

A charming grin across the rim of a glass hits him.

“Is that so.”

 

For a while they sit and drink, Shane refills their glasses twice and Ryan hums at the familiar twinge of alcohol warming his stomach. He tilts his glass to look at the amber liquid and thinks. He could change his mind, throw Legs out and maybe jerk off before he goes to sleep. Let the guy simmer a bit, let his desire grow. Seeing the man frustrated could be fun. Then again, right now he feels surprisingly relaxed. Sure, there is still a certain tension between them, but now he feels like it could be diffused. They could sit and drink and relax, despite him being naked and Shane only being in his underpants. He doesn’t _have_ to jump the guy’s bones but… he actually wants to. So he decides to take the lead in that direction.

 

“You know,” he starts, as he holds his glass out for Shane to fill again, “I didn’t expect you to be a fighter like that. That’s not out of disrespect, it’s just that most cleaners know how to handle a gun but they’re not…”

“Killers?” Shane suggests, placing the almost empty bottle out of the way.

Ryan makes a humming noise.

 

“Artists, I would say. It sounds pretentious as fuck, but there is a difference between offing someone by shooting them in the head and… taking your time and precautions with ending someone’s life. I always thought there was an art to it. You can be delicate or brutal, but you always need to know exactly what to do to see the exact moment someone takes their last breath.”

 

His voice has become hushed and he notices the shiver of arousal that stirs in his body.

“That second just before a human becomes … just waste. That’s magical.”

Shane hums. Ryan knows the other man is watching him with half hooded lids.

“I am more into precision work. Death and killing is not my focus. It's how you get there... that's what intrigues me.”

Ryan turns and catches Shane licking his lips.

“That’s why I like to watch you while you do it. Do you know that every single muscle in your upper body moves, stretches and flexes when you strangulate someone? It’s … a sight to behold.”

 

Ryan stares at him. Shane stares back. Black eyes and brown eyes not leaving each other, heat building between two bodies pushed together on a bed. Shane stretches out his arm and places his glass on the bedside table without looking. Ryan follows the unspoken suggestion and puts his glass away too. They lean in, both at the same time and their whiskey-flavored breaths mingle.

 

“Do you want me?”

Shane sounds almost surprised. As if it doesn’t happen often. Ryan wants to laugh, but it would feel disrespectful so he just grins and runs his tongue over his teeth.

“Is that so unthinkable?”

 

Their lips are almost touching, both of them tilting their heads just slightly so they don’t knock their noses together.

“It doesn’t happen often… And you’re… you’re…”

Shane’s breath tickles Ryan’s lips and he swallows instinctively.

 

“What am I?”

 

“You’re intoxicating. They way you can break someone’s neck with your fingers… the way you are ready to stand in front of a shotgun blast as if nothing can touch you. You’re so fucking hot and … I think you’re the closest to heaven I’ll ever be.”

Ryan almost frowns. His upbringing had been catholic, but religion just wasn’t for him. He feels heavenly when he kills, sometimes thinks he is reaching divinity in a way so blasphemous it would make his parents weep with disappointment. Sill, being compared to heaven feels wrong. But it feels wrong in the way he wants to fuck after squeezing the life out of somebody. Wrong in the way he wanted to clean the blood splatters that Neck left on Shane off with his tongue. Wrong in the way his whole body including his heart is pulling towards his partner.

“Fuck.” He whispers. “You must be fucked in the head for thinking you’re not desirable.”

 

And then he kisses Shane. He surges up from his position, legs uncrossing as he throws his arms around his partner and shoves his mouth against soft lips. He pushes Shane to the bed, grabbing onto him so hard he knows his fingertips will put bruises on pale skin. The mouth underneath his own parts and their tongues touch and then a hand grabs at his side, his ass, while another fists in his still damp hair. They move quickly, trying to grab as much of the other as quickly as possible. Shane surges up underneath him, takes over the kiss and soon flips them over. Ryan half expects the taller man to settle between his knees and put Ryan’s legs around his hips. He would have been fine with it. He prefers to top but if Shane is more into fucking him, he’s game. But then Shane climbs on Ryan’s lap and makes a point of grinding his ass down onto Ryan’s half hard dick and Ryan groans.

Shane's underwear goes flying. They try to grab and claw and bite at each other. Ryan tastes blood and doesn’t know whose it is but it’s alright because he instantly zeroes in on the taste. He never could consume blood without his body rejecting it and him being sick to his stomach. But the taste and smell still does it for him so he mashes their mouths together again, hoping Shane will taste it, will add to the taste and get him even further away from reason. Long fingers dig into his skin all over, tugging on his dick and pushing it between surprisingly well-shaped ass cheeks. It’s rough and there is no lube involved yet so pushing against Shane’s ass burns, but Ryan relishes it.

 

Shane curses above him, grabbing his shoulders.

“Do you have… some slick or something?”

Ryan gasps as Shane grinds down. He surges up and grabs at Shane to bite the side of his neck. Shane groans as Ryan pulls back, skin caught between his teeth and only lets go when he is sure he is leaving a mark.

“Top right drawer.” His voice is only a growl by now and he reaches down and grabs Shane’s ass, spreading the cheeks. He doesn’t want to rush, but he has the feeling they don’t really have a choice. Shane’s dick is bobbing against Ryan’s stomach and smears precum everywhere. Shit. Legs is _leaking_ and Ryan hasn’t even touched the guy’s prostate yet.

 

“Fuck. Tell me this isn’t the last time.”

Shane, who has leaned forward to grab the lube from the drawer gives Ryan a beautiful sight of his chest before he settles back and meets his eyes.

“Not if I can’t help it.”

“Good.” Ryan finally finds his NightNight voice again. “Because I wanna do this again. Want to choke you, want to give you just a tiny taste of what you watched happen.”

 

Shane almost drops the lube as he is pouring it on his hand.

“F-fuck, NightNight watch those suggestions or I’ll have to slow down.”

“Ryan. Call things as they are. You’re Shane and I’m going to fuck you and I’m not gonna do it as NightNight.”

Shane throws him a look. He seems a little surprised, intrigued… maybe even a little worried?

 

“Alright.” Shane’s voice is suddenly soft. He smears the lube from his palm onto his fingers and then sits up on his knees to bring his hand behind him.

“If we do this again, I’ll indulge you, tough guy.” He grins down at Ryan and even though he can’t see it, Ryan knows he has just pushed the first finger into himself.

“I’ll get my knives. Give you a nice little cut to remember me by for a couple of days. Give you a taste of yourself. And maybe of me.”

Shane brings up his free hand and drags his teeth over his wrist, leaving red welts on it. Ryan almost cums right there and he slams his hands on Shane’s hips, digging in his fingernails. He is rewarded with a loud moan, which is probably aided by Shane thrusting another finger in. Ryan can _just_ see the beginning of a scissoring motion and he leans up to suck one of Shane’s nipples into his mouth. It’s effective. Shane presses against him while simultaneously trying to buck down onto his fingers.

 

“Fuck.” Ryan hisses against a reddened and spit-covered nipple. “You got the blood thing quick.” He's not saying yet what he's thinking. If Shane were to use his knives, Ryan doesn't want a cut that heals over in a couple of days. He could carry a lifelong scar from this night and he would carry it proudly.

Shane actually giggles above him.

“You look like a vampire whenever blood is outside of someone else’s body.”

Ryan curses softly and moves to the other nipple. His teeth make Shane stutter out a groan.

“Can’t drink it. But, fuck, it smells so good. I know I’m messed up.”

Shane laughs.

“So am I, baby. It’s fucking hot, if it helps.”

“Does.”

Ryan has still two handfuls of Shane’s ass and spreads them a little more. He feels the jerk in Shane’s hips when the other man starts to finger fuck himself on three digits. The lube makes squelching noises and Ryan bites his bottom lip so he doesn’t groan with every jerk.

 

“I think I’m good.”

Shane opens his eyes which had been wrenched shut since he added the last finger.

“Ready to fuck my brains out?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Pretty please.”

 

Ryan laughs. His voice is rough and it doesn’t sound joyful, but he actually thinks Shane is fucking hilarious. He also thinks Shane is really hot, so he moves his hands to the other man’s hips and looks up.

“Which way do you want it, baby?”

The pet name slips out before he can help it. If Shane is offended by it, he doesn’t show it.

“Screw me into the mattress. I want to limp tomorrow.”

 

Ryan hisses as Shane bends down and bites down on his shoulder. Sharp points dig into thick shoulder meat and he can feel each individual tooth. It sends a shock through him and for a moment he’s terrified he’s gonna come before he can even get into Shane. But he catches himself. Brings his hands up and drags his nails down Shane’s back, leaving eight beautiful red welts on his back. Then he flips them over.

 

Shane drops on his back and brings his arms up to grab the headboard. Ryan manhandles him and gets a delighted moan in return. He pushes Shane’s long, long legs up, puts one over his shoulder and the other even further back, until he has almost folded Shane in half. His arm is stretched and the hand clutches Shane’s leg by the Achilles tendon, holding it above their heads. Shane is spread out under him and he can see his prepared hole, pink and slick with lube. When Shane notices him looking, he clenches, ass trying to suck in nothing and Ryan growls, grabs for the lube with his free hand and just drizzles it down on his dick. He wants to put the bottle away to slick himself up properly, but before he can reach for it, Shane’s hands have both closed around his erection and Ryan groans as he’s being slathered in lube. Long, beautiful fingers curl and squeeze around his length and he turns his head and bites at Shane’s thigh which is resting on his chest. Shane whimpers and pulls his hands back.

 

“Ready?”

 

“Fuck. Get on with it.”

 

Ryan does. He leans over Shane even more, admiring the man’s flexibility as he just bends him however he needs him. He guides himself towards Shane’s hole and groans when the head slips in almost without any resistance. Tense heat envelops him and he closes his eyes for a moment to concentrate.

“Shane… fuck… how hard do you want it? If you don’t tell me now, I might not be able to hold back.”

Shane rolls up his hips and Ryan shudders as he slips in a little deeper.

“I told you. Fuck me up. Bruise me. If you want, you can break me...”

 

Ryan hisses and opens his eyes, looking down at his partner. Shane looks wrecked already, lips bitten and bruised, face reddened and eyes wide and pleading. Pleading for Ryan to _do something_. And Ryan manages to focus for a second. He dips his head and kisses Shane, almost sweet and so close to loving. Shane pushes up and kisses back, making no move to intensify the kiss just now.

“I won’t break you. Fuck, stop thinking you’re just a _hole_ to me. I’m not that-”

 

He wants to say: “I’m not that bad”, but he doesn’t finish the sentence because it sounds fucking stupid. Instead, he leans in, allowing himself to push into Shane slowly and carefully, stretching the other man around his dick and watching Shane’s expression change from desperate to elated. Shane’s mouth falls open and his eyes roll back. A shudder goes through his body and as Ryan bottoms out, Shane’s cock spurts a bit of cum across the tall man’s stomach. Ryan settles over him, allowing the impossibly stretched leg to lower and come down on his free shoulder. He places his hands on Shane’s hips and leans in to kiss him once more.

 

“Let’s feel good, alright?”

He growls it and Shane hisses and then nods, grinding his hips down a little. His eyes open and meet Ryan’s and the slightly pained grimace melts into a grin. Shane’s arms come up to hold Ryan’s face.

“Alright. Now _move_ for fuck’s sake.”

 

Ryan obeys. They take a couple of minutes to find a rhythm that makes both of them gasp and moan. Shane twitches every time Ryan thrusts into him. Ryan keeps the thrusts hard and sharp, making good on his promise to make it hard to walk for Shane tomorrow. He also makes sure to hit the other man’s prostate, which is luckily not that hard with Shane’s position and the other man opening up to him so beautifully. Shane pulls him in and kisses Ryan again. They gasp in between kisses, nip at lips and tongues and Ryan knows he will need another shower. Both of them are smeared with sweat and lube and precum but it feels fucking amazing. To his surprise and almost shock, Ryan realizes he feels even more alive than when he’s splattered with the blood of a target. More alive than when he sees the light behind someone's eyes extinguish. That had to be addressed later, however, because he was slowly losing his train of thought.

 

All he could think of was driving into Shane, harder, deeper, following the breathless instructions from underneath him. His bed creaks and the headboard hits the wall behind it. Ryan realizes that this might be the first time this happened to his bed, which is surprising. Then again, this day has been full of surprises.

 

Shane suddenly flinches underneath him and before Ryan can check if he has gone too far, the man underneath him comes untouched. His dick spurts ropes of cum across his stomach and chest and those long legs shudder on his shoulders. Shane’s feet cross at the ankles and Ryan can feel the heels settling on his back as he is trapped in position. He tightens his grasp on Shane’s hips and lifts him up, pulling Shane against him with quick, short tugs. Shane whimpers underneath him but then he can hear his partner’s voice.

 

“ _Yes_. Fuck. Do it. Use me. Wanna feel you cum inside me. Fill me up-”

 

Ryan groans and throws himself forward, pushing as deep as he can go. Shane’s knees almost touch his shoulders as Ryan’s sweat damp hair brushes Shane’s forehead. Ryan wrenches his eyes open to look into Shane’s eyes as he pulses deep inside of him and Shane groans with delight as he feels heat flooding him in rhythmic spurts.

They stay like that for a couple of seconds, breathing hard before Ryan slowly leans back. Every part of him wants to just pull out and drop on his side, but he takes the time to lower Shane’s legs carefully, allowing him to stretch them out after the long, cramped position. He pulls out almost tenderly, getting barely more than a hiss. Ryan looks down. Shane almost instantly starts leaking his seed and Ryan gulps. That sight could almost get him to ready up for Round 2.

 

He bends over, bracing himself over Shane and they take a moment to catch their breaths fully. Finally he looks up from where he has been staring at Shane’s messy skin.

“You alright?”

Shane nods, head back in the pillows.

“I feel fucking amazing… I still can…”

He wiggles his hips a little and hisses at the mild pain.

“I can still feel you inside of me.”

 

Ryan growls.

 

“Watch those words… I might do it again.”

“Fuck, yes please.”

Ryan almost snorts.

 

-

 

It takes them a little time but they do manage another round and Shane is positively screaming _yes yes yes_ as he comes on Ryan’s cock again. Afterwards, once the initial exhaustion has lessened, Ryan drags his partner into the shower again and cleans them up. He feels a twinge of guilt about how much Shane is stumbling and even though the other man reassures him that this is exactly what he was going for, he still wants to make it up to him. So he sucks Shane off while they’re showering and based on the noises Shane makes and how tight he is holding onto his hair, it’s a appreciated.

 

While Shane carefully dries off his more sore spots, Ryan pulls fresh covers on the bed. He catches Shane in the bathroom, about to put his clothes back on and rolls his eyes. He grabs Shane’s arm.

“You better fucking stay in my bed if you know what’s good for you, Madej.”

Shane smiles a tiny little bit, clearly seeing through the show.

“Alright. I’ll yield, Bergara.”

 

They settle in bed together. It’s not… cuddling. But they do intertwine their limbs and grab for something to hold onto. Shane – surprisingly – settles his head against Ryan’s chest and wraps his arms around the shorter man’s middle. Ryan puts a hand on Shane’s hip and the other one plays with soft brown hair while sleep slowly settles into their bones.

 

“So… you want to do that again?” Shane’s voice is a little hoarse.

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

 

Legs looks smug and NightNight can’t help but smile a little as his eyes slowly close.

 

His intuition had been right, again. This was fun.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sorry I got you into trouble.”  
> Ryan only huffs.  
> “That’s not what I meant earlier. I lost control, so she is right. It’s on me.”  
> “Not entirely. I let you do it.”  
> Ryan laughs without real humor.  
> “As if you could stop me if I really wanted to.”  
> “You’d be surprised.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In comparison to the other chapters, this is tame. There are mentions of sex and some violence / destruction happens, but otherwise it's relatively chill.

When Ryan wakes up, he half expects Legs to be gone. Something about the way his partner had acted the night before gave him the impression that Legs expected him to kick him out. He assumes that it’s deserved, in a way. Ryan is passionate, yes, but not exactly loving and he would be lying if he said he hadn’t left after a fuck or kicked someone out. But Shane isn’t just someone he had picked up in a bar. They worked together. And the guy was fun to be around. They got some stuff in common, even if it was mostly things that would make a head shrink write a new book. So when he wakes up, naked and alone in his bed, he’s a little disappointed.

 

He rolls on his back and scowls at the ceiling. Madej had disobeyed him again and sure, it’s infuriating, but something feels _good_ about it. He can’t boss Legs around the way he does with other people he works with. Brent has a spine but he still would give when Ryan made a decision for both of them. Shane isn’t having it. It’s refreshing to have someone to go head to head with.

 

While he’s still thinking, he hears the flush of the toilet. Surprised, he sits up. Down the hall, he can hear water run, then the creak of the tap and the sound of a door opening. The tap tap of naked feet are coming closer and then his bedroom door is pushed open and Legs Madej steps in.

 

“Oh. Did I wake you up? Sorry.”

Ryan swallows.

“You’re still here.”

Shane lifts an eyebrow.

“I believe you told me to. Should I leave?”

“No.” Ryan feels himself relax. “I’m glad you’re still here.”

“Ah.” Shane seems pleasantly surprised. “Good.”

 

-

 

They buy coffee and sandwiches on their way to the “office”. Ryan is kind of hungover, so he lets Shane drive. He can’t remember the last time he had allowed someone to drive his baby. Shane is a good driver though, barely jostling Ryan from where he has leaned his head against the window.

 

Once they get in the office, however, his luck runs out. Eugene passes him and gives him a meaningful look. Ryan is about to snap at him to stare at someone else when a hand grabs his shoulder and Eugene leans close to his ear.

 

“Jen wants to talk to you. She seems pissed, so you better go right away.”

He stands up, clearly aware that Shane had been listening in.

“Goes for you as well, Madej. Better move your ass.”

His eyes take in Shane’s long legs, the suit that’s the same as the day before and the rumpled state of his clothing.

“If you can still feel it, that is.”

Ryan is going to break his kneecaps one day. Before he can respond, Eugene is already gone again, probably looking for his partners. Ryan grinds his teeth.

 

“Well.” Legs clears his throat. “Better see her, then.”

 

-

 

When Jen gets mad, she mixes languages. Ryan sits on a chair next to Shane as if he’s a kid in school getting scolded in the principal office while Ruggirello is screaming at them. His head is pounding and he’s sure he knows and does _not_ care. He’s glad about the Italian outbursts, because he doesn’t need to know in what ways she is cursing his ass. Most of what he catches are desperate questions to Mother Mary about what she did to deserve this. When Ruggirello is scolding him, she falls into Japanese because Ryan understands it but his skills aren’t on par enough to shoot back. He feels like he is scolded by his mother and Jen clearly relishes that. She also seems to enjoy that Shane doesn’t understand.

 

“Just because you need to spill blood to get it up doesn’t mean you get to do it under my watch, you bastard. Do you have any idea how much chaos you caused? The cleaning crew was needed somewhere else, you almost got some of my best people exposed, you little shit!”

 

Before he can say anything, she whips around and starts screaming at Shane in English.

 

“And _you_! I had such faith in you and then you don’t _stop_ him you _help_ him?! Men! Always thinking with their dicks. I should split you two up but I highly doubt that would keep you from messing with each other like that.”

 

She makes a general gesture to the state they are both in. Her teeth are gritted and she seems truly irate, so Ryan swallows his pride and bows, still sitting.

 

“I’m sorry, Jen. Ruggirello, I mean. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

 

The last line softens her features a little as she snorts.

 

“Clearly.”

“I had no right to act out of line. I lost it because they insulted Madej with some stuff that… hit a bit too close to home.”

He looks up and sees her eyes flicker over to him. Her mouth sets in a hard line.

 

“I heard of it. From the bartender. He was terrified, sure, but kind of impressed.”

She sighs.

“You two can’t go around doing this shit, as much as I would like to do it myself sometimes. You’re gonna get all of us in trouble. Low profile is important in times like this. So no fucking bar brawls with homophobes. Understood?”

 

Shane nods. Ryan does the same.

“Good.” Her voice is a growl.

“Now get out before I change my mind and give you laundromat duty.”

 

Shane gets up. Ryan scrambles to his feet as well.

“Thank you.”

She waves him off.

“You’re punished enough. Hope the hangover holds up.”

Ryan almost laughs.

“Wow. Fuck you, too!”

 

He only gets a grin in response.

 

-

 

When the door to Ruggirello’s office slams shut behind them, they both glance over at the same time. Shane looks a little sheepish with only the corners of his mouth twitching.

 

“Sorry I got you into trouble.”

Ryan only huffs.

“That’s not what I meant earlier. I lost control, so she is right. It’s on me.”

“Not entirely. I let you do it.”

Ryan laughs without real humor.

“As if you could stop me if I really wanted to.”

“You’d be surprised.”

There is a gleam in Shane’s eyes that fires up Ryan’s curiosity. It looks dangerous and promising at the same time, which is Ryan’s favorite. Maybe his intuition was right. Shane could be more than a work partner and occasional fuck. Things were interesting. NightNight Bergara _liked_ interesting.

 

They can’t stand around and flirt all day, so they get back to Ryan’s car. He feels a little fresher than before, so he gets behind the wheel while Shane looks up an address.

 

“Someone hasn’t been paying their monthlies,” he mutters while he picks in his teeth. “No deaths, we’re just supposed to mess the place up a little, maybe rough up the guy, but nothing else.”

“Alright.” Ryan starts the car. “Where to?”

“It’s a deli, not too far away. I’ll direct you.”

“Deli, eh?” Ryan looks over his shoulder as he backs out of the parking spot. “Just in time for lunch.”

Shane snorts.

“We just had breakfast.”

Ryan just shrugs and throws him a wicked grin.

“I need the energy.”

He can almost imagine that Madej is blushing, but he has to keep his eyes on the road.

 

-

 

The deli is small and apparently well liked. Ryan watches school kids and young couples enter and leave, faces aglow with smiles and carrying bags of food. He taps a rhythm on the steering wheel while Legs is reading information out to him.

 

Steven Nelson, owner of the little deli – since its former owner mysteriously disappeared – and in the pocket of the mafia for way too long. Would ask for a “favor” once in a while, which meant he wanted new competition out of the picture. But suddenly, a month ago he stopped paying the usual and when they asked after it, he ignored the reminder. Ryan will never get why people do this. They should know getting involved was a lifetime pledge. You don’t take all kinds of favors and then pretend nothing happened if the people who paid you these favors have hired guns and fists.

 

With a sigh, he turns off the radio.

 

“Let’s just go. I feel like I have to prove myself today.”

Shane smirks.

“Is that your way of saying you will be good?”

Ryan is laughing out loud as he gets out of the car and rounds it, popping open the trunk.

“Good? Nah, that might be a bit too much.”

He pulls the steel bat out of the trunk and slams it shut again. The weight is familiar and reassuring. He loves this bat, it’s just the perfect weight to swing and smash something. Ryan has never been one for baseball, but this thing made him feel complete.

 

“Ready?”

“After you, babe.”

Ryan’s eyes flicker over to Shane. If he regretted the pet name, it doesn’t show. And for some reason Ryan doesn’t mind either. Maybe it was his partner’s attitude about it all.

 

“Fine.”

He walks ahead into the deli. They both waited till the school kids all got their snacks or sweets or whatever they came to grab. Right now, it’s a bit calmer. An old lady is looking at pasta, clearly not paying attention. A glass cover sits on a collection of expensive cheese and Ryan feels the calm, goal-oriented attitude of NightNight wash over him. He clenches his fist around the bat. A quick glance tells him that only a few more guests are around. Nelson is nowhere to be seen.

 

Legs seems to notice the shift in the atmosphere, because he moves to Ryan’s left, out of the way of possible glass projectiles. Ryan brings up the bat and weighs it in his left hand, sliding it up through his fingers till both his hands grab the hilt. He hears a surprised shout somewhere behind him and he hitches the bat and swings it down, smashing the class and destroying not only the cuts of cheese beneath, but also causing the table to cave in and break.

 

A scream rings out, probably from the old lady and he sees fleeing figures in the corners of his vision. He turns, but not to the civilians, but rather to look at Legs who is stretching out a long arm and brushes an entire shelf full of expensive looking jars to the ground. There is carpeting, so most of the things survive the fall, but Ryan is right there to whip around and smash it. The smell of vinegar and other preservatives hits his nose as the stuff trickles into the carpet. Another hit takes apart the glass cover on the counter next to the register. It’s when the guy in question runs in through a beaded curtain.

 

“What’s going on here! What the hell are you doing?!”

Ryan ignores him in favor of kicking over one of the bar stools and breaking it into pieces.

He hears Shane talk in the back of his head and forces himself out of his state of mind to listen.

“Steven Nelson, I assume? My boss, who is an old friend of yours was kinda distraught to hear that you didn’t keep your promises. He’s just making sure you remember this time.”

Ryan whips around and breaks a stack of wine bottles. The stench of grape juice alcohol mixes with the vinegar. He sees out of the corner of his eyes how Nelson vaults his counter with surprising agility and he is about to turn and bring his bat up when Legs moves in.

 

Ryan doesn’t quite catch what’s happening, but suddenly, Nelson is on the floor with Shane’s hand pressing his face into the carpeting. A nasty gash is on the man’s cheek and Ryan zeroes in on the smell of blood, somehow still noticeable under wine and cheese and pickles. Ryan feels invigorated and starts to tear down whatever is hanging above the counter. Mostly hams and they look pretty good, so Ryan decides to keep one for later. While he destroys the deli and Shane keeps the mark on the ground, he feels the tension of the day fall off of him. Even his hangover lets up under the adrenaline pumping in his veins. He throws on the ground whatever he doesn’t want and by the end of his rampage, he has picked quite a few things he will take.

 

“So.” He says, breathing a little heavily. Destruction doesn’t quite get him going the way violence against people does, but he still feels amazing. “Just a reminder, friendo.”

He shoulders the bat and leans over the counter to grab a plastic bag.

 

“Hope to hear from you, soon.” He says in a sing-song voice as he stashes his treasures. When he turns to leave, Shane gets up. Nelson doesn’t look like he wants to move. He had to lie on the ground for ten minutes while NightNight Bergara destroyed his pride and joy. He seems to be a broken man, which is good.

 

Legs smiles as he gets up. He takes the bag from NightNight when it’s offered to him and they leave together. It took the witnesses some time to call the police. The two of them are already in another district by the time they hear sirens.

 

-

 

They drive to a park and have a picnic on a bench. Bread, cheese, ham and wine, all pretty high quality based on what Ryan knows. Shane is chewing contently, long legs crossed as he leans back on the bench and looks around. It’s relatively empty and Ryan feels calm settle over him. He got to let out all the anger and destructive force. Now he wants to eat and maybe have a drink. He texted Jen that the job was done and he got a single thumbs up emoji in return, so he assumes he did okay.

 

“Do you dance?” Shane suddenly asks out of nowhere.

Ryan passes the wine bottle they have been sharing back to his partner.

“In a club? Sure. Not amazingly but I do dance.”

Shane giggles and pounds back another gulp of wine. Ryan watches and considers offering the guy a time out in the bushes. He could find other ways to use that throat. But Shane is quicker.

“I mean other dancing, but sure, that’s cool too. Wanna see where I usually… ‘get down’?”

Ryan laughs.

“That sounds terrible. Especially from you. You’re too white to brag about getting down.”

Shane shrugs, grinning to himself.

“Probably. But I wanna show you my favorite spot.”

Ryan rolls his eyes.

“Fine. If you have to.”

Shane takes his hand, which is a bit surprising. Not unwanted, however.

 

-

 

The club is a bit dark and broody, but Ryan assumes it’s just the style of the ages they try to call out to. Little, secluded booths, the smell of cigarette smoke and a dance floor in the middle makes it look like something from a movie. Shane fills him in. They focus on the style of the 40’s, swing dance in particular.

 

“It’s where I learned neoswing.”

Ryan frowns.

“What’s that?”

Shane shrugs. He bought both of them gin tonics and he has already almost emptied his.

“Modern take on swing, pretty much. The goal is to have fun.”

Music filters in through the speakers and it’s not the usual, bass boosted pounding in clubs. It’s a little lighter, slightly off-beat, as if protesting against said pounding beats. Before Ryan can react, Shane has slipped from their booth and made his way to the dance floor.

 

Ryan sips his drink and watches, because despite his suit still having the “walk of shame” air plastered to it, Legs cuts a good figure. He does a few playful steps back and forth, rolling his hips as he gets into the music and Ryan is staring without feeling guilty. Madej is a meal and a half and Ryan would be damned if he didn’t feast his eyes on him.

 

As Legs hits the dance floor, the first thing NightNight can think of is the old movies his mother used to watch when he was a kid. Movies where the main character was played by a professional dancer turned actor, not an actor who had learned to dance. He knows enough of music to recognize that it’s somewhere in the swing style, but the only person he can relate the way Legs is now moving is Fred Astaire, and he doesn’t even really know if that comparison is fair or if it’s just the only dancer he can think of.

 

Legs moves in a way that is incredibly unrestrained. His movements are fluid, quick, almost like the way he fights, but less tense-and-release. Legs in a fight is an archer, pulling a bowstring and flinging a deadly object at a target with a sudden explosion of speed. On the dance floor, Legs is relaxed, slick and exudes… happiness.

 

It feels strange, almost voyeuristic to watch him dance. NightNight feels like this is a side of Legs he’s not entitled to. Working together, murdering people, committing crimes... even fucking. Those were all things that came from their greed and aggression, at least that’s how NightNight always saw it. This; this is _Shane_ having _fun_. It is… pure, for the lack of a better word. The music changes into an upbeat piece with a brass section, as if someone changed it when they had spotted the dancer and Ryan wouldn’t rule it out, honestly.

 

Madej is moving backwards, his steps not really steps. He seems to glide backwards while occasionally pulling his leg up into a bow and indeed, he uses one hand to lift his hat to the beat, making a woman laugh who catches his eye. He turns – no, _twirls_ \- and then bounces from left to right with movements so fluid it’s like watching a well oiled machine work. NightNight Bergara doesn’t get ASMR or “stim” videos. He only knows some people mix paint or pull slime which is apparently hypnotic and relaxing. Now he gets what people who watch the stuff are after.

 

He sits and clutches his drink as Shane’s hips move in a way that would get him to jump his bones in private. It wasn’t a thrust or grind, simply a soft swing, a roll to the side while his legs flail about him. His feet cross and uncross in a way that makes Ryan think of zig-zagging cars gliding down an empty road. It’s almost as if his feet aren’t restrained by the meters of leg he is flinging across the club. The woman from earlier catches his eye with a well placed twirl and a waggle of her arm. Shane smirks as he makes his way over to her, throwing in a “Night Fever” hand motion to make her laugh. They join hands, she twirls again, this time into his arm – and NightNight’s fingernails dig into his palm. This is bad. He knows the bitter taste of jealousy in the back of his throat, but it’s not appropriate. He’s not dating Shane, they’re working together, they fucked once and might do it again when it’s convenient. Ryan’s not interested in dancing with Shane or going out on dates. Why does this lady make him so mad? He realizes he’s actually fighting the red mist that threatens to cloud his vision and decides to sidetrack by slamming back his drink.

 

As he looks back at Legs, the tall man is twirling his arms like a windmill and somehow makes it look smooth and endearing. The woman has moved back and NightNight has to admit she is a good dancer. It looks more like the Charleston what she’s doing, kicking her legs instead of swinging them like Legs does, but it’s refined. It’s good. They make a good pair.

 

NightNight’s jaw hurts from clenching. Shane moves towards the woman, in the strange way he dances, taking way too many steps as if still sliding back constantly. He finally sidles back and forth, as if reeling in a catch while fishing and the woman follows his movements in a similar back-and-forth flirty style. Once their hands connect again, Shane swings them between them as if they are on a cheesy Sunday walk. While all of this happens, they never pause or stop. Shane drops to one knee behind her and immediately gets up again in a fluid motion while she moves her hips in a twisting motion, making her skirt whirl around her.

 

When the music finally stops with a final addition of a trumpet, the people around the bar burst into cheers and clap. Shane is laughing, cheeks reddened and smile wide and the woman next to him is clapping too, but he takes her hand, holds it up and bows alongside her as if they had just given a performance. Ryan guesses, in some way, they did.

 

He sees the woman interlink her arm with Shane’s to whisper in his ear and Ryan turns away, walking over to the bar to order another bourbon to wash out the bitter taste in his mouth. The bartender gives him a look but doesn’t comment. When the bourbon is placed in front of him, Ryan stares at it bitterly. What is happening to him? One beautifully murderous, long-limbed cleaner swings into his life and all of a sudden he is ready to drink to forget? Forget a romance that didn’t even exists? He realizes he hates himself quite a bit. Maybe drinking was a way out tonight.

 

Before he can grab the drink, however, a long arm moves into his vision and takes the glass. He turns in surprise and sees Legs empty half of the bourbon and soda in a big gulp. Part of NightNight’s brain flares up. Anyone touching his shit was on thin ice. Taking his drink away from him, right in front of his nose would usually end with at least a broken cheekbone and the loss of teeth, probably some internal bleeding, too. But since this is Legs, who Ryan had expected to duck off into some public restroom to have a quickie with the Charleston-girl, Legs, who is now standing right next to him and smiles brightly when he has downed the bourbon, he just sits and stares.

 

“Sorry about that, I was parched. Another one, Charlie! And put this one on my tab as well!”

NightNight blinks.

“Where’s the girl you picked up?”

“Hm? Oh, she wanted to have a drink with me but I wasn’t into it. I just wanted to dance.”

Ryan snorts.

“She clearly wanted more… would a dancing fella be better?”

“Why?” Shane tilts his head to the side. “Are you offering?”

Ryan snorts again.

“Not the dancing, no. But you know my stance on the other stuff.”

He gets his own drink and quickly takes a sip before Shane can claim this one, too.

“I do. But I’m just saying… there are other ways to have fun.”

“I can see that. Where did you learn to dance like that?”

Shane shrugs.

“I told you. Here. I mean, I had dance lessons when I was seventeen. For prom and shit. But this kind of dancing I learned from friends around here and it’s just… fun. You can use the moves for a lot, it’s kind of like fighting, you got your trained movements and kicks and throws and punches, but you choose how to use them.”

“Is fighting why you learned to dance?”

“No, I was… bored. I needed an outlet that was not violent.”

Shane takes another sip.

“Didn’t help with the rumors of me being gay, though.”

“...are you?”

NightNight is not sure if he’s even allowed to ask.

“No. I like some women. I just prefer men.”

“I see.”

“What about you?”

Ryan shrugs and drinks. When Shane is still looking expectantly at him afterwards, he caves.

“I don’t mind either. But there are more men who are into the shit I like. I need someone who can roughhouse me a little or doesn’t mind me being rough with them and that sometimes puts women on edge. More than men at least.”

“Hm.”

Shane is watching him. For some reason, it makes Ryan nervous.

 

“What?”

“Nothing. I guess I might have overdone it last night.”

Ryan blinks.

“What do you mean?”

Shane shrugs and takes a drink. It’s a couple of extra seconds before he answers.

“I probably had an unfair image of you. Last night, I mean. I apologize.”

Ryan thinks about it. His memory is a little hazy but he isn’t sure what Shane means.

“I don’t follow.”

Shane sighs.

“I told you that you can break me if you want to. I guess I expected you to be the kind who is not only rough but violent in bed. But… I don’t know. You gave me what I wanted but you were also careful. And you wanted me to stay. I guess I’m just apologizing because I treated you like you were heartless. Which I don’t believe, for the record.”

Ryan drinks thoughtfully. He has been called heartless a number of times. One of his deepest relationships failed because of his profession, because she thought that all he wanted from life was hurting others. It was one of the first times in his life he had felt ashamed of who he was and how his mind and body worked.

 

He stares into his drink. It’s somehow empty.

 

A hand touches his arm and he looks up. Shane has a surprisingly soft expression on his face and he is holding out the rest of his drink to Ryan. He reaches out for it and only hesitates for a moment before taking it and pounding it back.

 

“I forgive you.” He says out of the blue once he has downed the bourbon. “I get it. I’m messed up, so of course you would expect that shit.”

Shane shakes his head.

“It was unfair. People are more complex and I … well, judged a book by its cover.”

Ryan nearly flinches as Shane takes his hand and brushes his lips over the still bruised knuckles. From here he is sitting, Ryan can see the bite mark he put on Shane’s neck.

 

“Take me to your place.” He whispers. “I want to … I don’t know. Relax.”

Shane smirks at him.

“It would be an honor.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s not about how long your legs are, NightNight. It’s how you use them.”  
> With a roll of his eyes, Ryan shakes his head.  
> “Terrible. You really went for the low hanging fruit.”  
> “Should I leave them to you? It’s not like you can reach the others.”
> 
> Ryan’s fingers twitch. He feels like he should make Legs pay for that comment. Although this payment would probably differ from the one he takes from others.
> 
> “You should watch your mouth, Madej. People tend to regret insulting NightNight Bergara.”  
> The smirk he gets in response could be mocking, but Shane seems amused.  
> “Apologies. Want me to make it up to you?”
> 
> Well, that went exactly the way Ryan had hoped and somehow apprehended. So much for "no more fucking".  
> “You can try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has more sexual content. Especially rough sexual content including choking and these boys are definitely not safe or completely sane about this, so while nothing happens without consent, this is not exactly a healthy, happy couple fucking. Reader discretion advised.

Legs swings open the door and tosses his keys on a small cabinet next to him.

 

“Make yourself at home. You like tea?”

NightNight pauses as he is taking his shoes off. Part of him had expected that they would just get to the bedroom and fuck, but apparently Legs took “relaxing” seriously.

“Sure, why the hell not.”

“What kind do you want?”

He looks up at Shane who is standing in the doorway to his kitchenette.

“I have no clue about tea. Just give me whatever you’re having.”

Legs shrugs and ducks through the door.

“Sure. Sit down, I’ll be with you in a bit.”

 

Ryan follows him through the door and watches the tall man putter around for a moment before he takes in the rest of the place.

The flat is small. From what he can see, the tiny kitchen opens into a small living room. Two more doors, probably bedroom and bathroom and that seems to be it. It’s simple and as he glances around, he notices how… impersonal the place looks.

 

The sofa and coffee table look basic, so basic that they probably had been there when Legs moved in. There are no plants, no pictures, no knick-knacks. NightNight sits down on the sofa and stares at the small TV on the wall across from him. He feels oddly unsure about things.

 

Earlier in the club when the feeling of jealousy had washed through him, he knew it was ridiculous. There is no reason to get possessive over Madej. They fucked once and he is acting as if they were High School sweethearts. It’s a new feeling and he isn’t sure if he likes it.

On top of that, he could have just slammed Legs into the wall and claimed his mouth when they walked in. He could have sucked him off right there in the hallway and then bent him over the sofa he is sitting on. Somehow, he hadn’t. Shane had offered him tea, as if he is a friend coming over to hang out, as if they hadn’t spent last night screwing each other’s brains out and the day with violence and drinking.

 

He leans back, drops his head on the backrest and sighs. Something is different about Shane. Something that distinguishes him from everyone else around them. Ryan had never thought about just hanging at Brent’s or Zach’s or Eugene’s. Drinking with colleagues was one thing, offering a partner a quickie in the bathroom another. But sitting at someone’s place as if you had a date and “came in for a cup of coffee” or in this case, tea… That was the things people in movies did. It was something _normal_ people did, probably. NightNight can’t remember if anyone ever saw him as normal or offered him a "normal activity".

 

Part of it pisses him off. It’s almost as if Shane is manipulating him into being … cute. But it’s not manipulation. It’s a friendly question and Ryan just goes along without thinking, only to be caught in over-analyzing everything. Maybe he’s being dumb. It’s just a cup of tea, not a love confession.

 

“I hope you like green.” Shane interrupts his thoughts and places a mug with steaming, greenish-brown liquid in front of him. It smells good. NightNight has a vague memory of his grandmother making tea when he was about seven. He hated it back then, too bitter.

“Thanks.” He grabs the mug and slowly wraps his fingers around it. Shane sits down next to him, close enough for their knees to brush. The tall man takes a sip and sighs, relaxing into the seat. Ryan stares at him for a moment and then lets his gaze drag across the room.

 

“When did you move here?”

“About half a year ago.”

He feels his eyebrows twitch upwards.

“Really? It’s very… clean.”

Shane seems to be suppressing a grin.

“Why should I make it my place if I might have to leave on short notice, anyway?”

“I see. I get it… I have a packed bag in my closet as well.”

 

In their line of work it’s not unusual to get a message from your boss suggesting that you should leave the state or even the country for a while. Depending on whatever went wrong, the relocation might be permanent. NightNight didn’t have to move, so far, but he knows a couple of people who have. Allegedly, Eugene got caught stringing someone up in his former work spot, which Ryan assumes might have been somewhere in Nevada. Relocation had been a blessing for him, however. He was someone who blossomed under the hot Californian sun. He also seemed to work better than ever with his new team.

 

Shane and him sit in silence, sipping tea. It’s relaxing, it really is. But it’s not the relaxation Ryan wants. He glances over and sees that Shane’s eyes are closed. His face is lax, almost as if he’s sleeping and Ryan takes it in. Cutting a rug in the club really seemed to have helped him unwind. Meanwhile, it had only wound up Ryan more than he liked to admit. Shane had looked _good_ dancing like that, but it had also angered him because the Charleston girl had no right to get Ryan worked up and jealous.

Ryan tears his gaze away. Maybe he should leave. Whatever was going on, he was close to getting in too deep. Sure, it was easier if it was someone in the same line of work, but… emotional relationships were generally a bad idea. Something like that could only end in blood, death and tears. He sips his tea and wonders if he should just stop fucking Shane. It would be a shame, because they turned out to be _very_ compatible. But sex is closeness and closeness can intensify feelings and NightNight is not in the _mood_ to deal with fucking feelings. Feelings that might have already started to build up, which is bullshit, because they have known each other for less than forty-eight hours and Ryan is fretting as if they are in the proposal stage already.

 

He puts his mug down, determined to get up and leave, when Shane places an arm around his shoulders. The warm weight settles in the back of his neck and Ryan looks over, sees Shane relaxed and leaned back with his legs stretched on the table and the mug of tea in his free hand. He’s looking over at Ryan with a soft smile and for a moment, it feels so domestic that it throws NightNight Bergara for a loop. He could shove him away or punch him or just let it escalate in rough sex and he is sure Legs would be up for a fuck if he asked. But it’s been a while since he just sat with someone like this, so he puts his feet on the coffee table as well and settles on the couch.

 

Legs fiddles with the remote he dug up from the sofa cushions and turns on the TV. The news channel still mentions the explosion from the day before, but apparently, the coroner has ruled the case an accident. They are currently looking for a man named M. Scott, the last inhabitant of the place who apparently wasn’t home when the flat went up in flames.

Shane zaps through the channels a bit. There is no mention of Nelson’s Delicatessen, so Ryan assumes that the guy did the right thing and told the cops he wouldn’t press charges. Shane finally settles on some generic comedy show, the canned laughter echoing in the quiet flat for a moment and Ryan wants to make a quip about Legs’ game being weak, if that was his plan to seduce him. But he falls silent when Shane’s hand brushes the back of his neck and a thumb rubs over the muscles below. He lets his partner do it, allowing the touch to become more kneading as Shane rubs his back.

 

“You’re all tensed up, NightNight.” Shane’s voice is a low growl.

“It’s normal. A hangover and physical work doesn’t exactly help to loosen you up.”

He hears a chuckle close to his ear.

“I should show you how to dance, that might help.”

Ryan snorts.

“I don’t think I got the legs for that. You’re probably better equipped for that.”

He turns his head and mirrors Shane’s smile.

“It’s not about how long your legs are, NightNight. It’s how you use them.”

With a roll of his eyes, Ryan shakes his head.

“Terrible. You really went for the low hanging fruit.”

“Should I leave them to you? It’s not like you can reach the others.”

 

Ryan’s fingers twitch. He feels like he should make Legs pay for that comment. Although this payment would probably differ from the one he takes from others.

 

“You should watch your mouth, Madej. People tend to regret insulting NightNight Bergara.”

The smirk he gets in response _could be_ mocking, but Shane seems amused.

“Apologies. Want me to make it up to you?”

 

Well, that went exactly the way Ryan had hoped and somehow apprehended. So much for "no more fucking".

“You can try.”

He grins at Shane, showing off teeth and can’t help but lick his lips when the hand on his back pulls away and Shane drops off the sofa to kneel between Ryan’s legs.

 

Ryan leans back as those pretty, long hands undo his belt and fly. He reaches over for the remote and shuts off the TV, so he can concentrate as he glances down and watches Shane pull him out of his underwear and then swallow him down without any hesitation. Ryan’s not even hard yet but Shane’s mouth is wet and _so_ hot, possibly warmed by the tea he’d been drinking and Ryan can’t help it. He hisses and grabs Shane’s soft hair, pulling him closer. He feels himself swell in that mouth, bucks up when a tongue curls around him and before long he can hear Shane swallow with effort and fight his gag reflex. Ryan's dick is more of a thick one than a long one, but the back of Shane’s throat is right there to welcome him anyways and his head drops back as he feels Shane’s nose bury in his pubic hair. He hears another soft gag and loosens the vice grip he has on Shane’s hair, only to have his hand grabbed and pressed back into it, harshly. His other hand is taken as well and as Shane pushes both of them to the back of his head, Ryan hisses and goes along with it. His fingers dig into Shane’s scalp so roughly, that the responding whine sends a shock through his dick.

 

“Fuck. You’re such a little slut, Madej. Want me to manhandle you? Use your pretty mouth to get off like you’re nothing more than a sex doll?”

He hisses as Shane sucks in his cheeks in response and moans.

“Thought so. All that bullshit about treating me like I’m too violent. You love it. You _want_ this.”

More encouraging moans and then a pitiful whine as Ryan drags Shane back by the hair, making him give up the weight of his cock in his throat.

“If the people who fear you could see you now. Gagging for my dick like that, _god_.”

He brings one hand to Shane’s face to roughly wipe away a tear that’s trickling down his partner’s face. The gagging has brought the man to literal tears and Ryan is surprised by how much _into it_ Shane is.

“I don’t think I will show you off, though. I want that mouth all to myself. Fuck.”

Shane whines again, suckles at the tip of Ryan’s cock as it threatens to slip out of his mouth and Ryan fists his hands in Shane’s hair and fucks back into the velvet heat.

It’s fast paced and rough and Ryan feels Shane relax his throat to let him use it as he pleases. Going by the whimpers and moans that get punched out of the man in front of him, he doesn’t mind it in the least.

“Fuck, Shane. Your voice will be ruined tomorrow. Hah- but it’s not like you care, huh? You go dancing after- ffffuh- after being fucked by me so you’ll probably hold a speech tomorrow. _Shit_. Admit it. You love showing how much someone messed you up.”

He bites his bottom lip as Shane clings to his thighs, moving more on his own now, barely needing Ryan’s tugs and pulls and Ryan can only groan in warning before he is spilling into his partner’s mouth.

Shane tugs on the rough grasp in his hair, pushes closer to get Ryan as deep as he can, sucking desperately as if he has to drink Ryan dry to survive. It’s almost painful and Ryan tears one hand out of Shane’s hair to bite his fist while he twitches through the aftershocks.

 

For a moment all he can hear is his own loud breathing and the thrumming of his pulse in his ears. Then Shane gags once more and pulls away, breaking into a coughing fit. He looks wrecked, cheeks wet with tears of the strain he has put on himself, asked Ryan to put on him and he is sitting on the floor of his own living room, coughing and gasping for breath.

Finally, he looks up, face flushed and somehow aglow with pride and enjoyment despite looking utterly destroyed. Ryan is still sinking into his seat, sweat prickling on his forehead while he tries to figure out the mystery that is Shane “Legs” Madej, a guy that goes dancing on weekends and makes his guests tea and is fast and dangerous and deadly in a fight – and also seems to adore it when Ryan hurts him and uses him and _wrecks_ him utterly while he's going on about how much of a slut the guy is. It makes Ryan’s blood boil in the best way and before Shane can even tuck him away, he has thrown himself on the other man and slammed him into the ground. Shane lets out a groan as his back hits the floor and immediately gasps when Ryan shoves a hand down his pants. For a moment, it seems like he’s about to push himself up but Ryan quickly gets his free hand around the other man’s throat and pushes him down again. A chocked moan forces itself out of Shane’s throat before his airflow is cut off. He tries to swallow against the hand on his neck, eyes fluttering, but he’s not fighting back. As Ryan gets a hand around Shane’s dick, Shane tries to thrust up, but he is still pinned down by Ryan practically sitting on him. Not wanting to actually harm his partner in the long term, Ryan lets up a little as he starts to jerk Shane off and he hears the scratchy gasps and moans beneath him, feels Shane’s hard cock twitch against his palm before squeezing both his hands again and then the man below him is coming, hands scrabbling at Ryan’s back and shoulders as he rides out his orgasm against the hands holding him down.

 

Ryan lets go of Shane’s throat and the coughing starts again, interrupted by deep, gulping breaths and Shane looks even worse for wear now, if that’s possible. He doesn’t try to sit up, at all. Instead, he grows limp on the floor, eyes closed and chest still heaving while his hands drop away from where they had clutched at Ryan’s shirt.

 

He drags his hand out of Shane’s pants and gets up. For a moment he stares at Shane, the swollen lips, the red mark around his neck, the tear tracks on his face and the cum smeared over his shirt. He doesn’t look like someone who enjoyed himself, except for the satisfied, bright smile that slowly spreads on his face while his eyes are still closed. Ryan is about to move when a hand comes up and clutches at his pants leg.

 

“Please-” Shane coughs, voice hoarse. “S-stay with me?” His eyes are wide and pleading, now, and the relaxed smile has dimmed.

Ryan looks down. This is his chance, the moment he can brush Shane off and make this a casual thing. Part of the violence they need in their lives, the hunger that needs to be appeased once in a while and _nothing more_. No affection or love, no growing soft like the night before. No jealousy, no drinking tea on a sofa while cuddling, no picnics in the park.

He kneels down and uses his clean hand to unwind Shane’s fingers from his pants. For a moment he just sits and holds onto his partner’s hand.

 

“I’m just grabbing something to get us cleaned up, Legs. _Shane._ Just wait here.”

Shane blinks and then his mouth spreads into that smile again.

“Okay.” He can barely whisper. “Alright.”

 

Ryan gets up. He finds the bathroom, wets a washcloth and grabs a towel. When he returns, Shane is still lying on the floor, eyes closed and smile almost serene.

“Incoming, big guy.” Ryan mutters as he wipes Shane down. He starts with his face, clearing tears and spittle and the bit of cum that got caught in the corner of the man's mouth before moving down his body.

 

“Come on, sit up, I’ll get you out of these clothes.”

Shane slowly pushes himself up, movements sluggish, but he does his best to help Ryan undress him. Afterwards, Ryan yanks the tall guy to his feet, pillowing him against his side and shoulder. Shane is tall and not exactly a lightweight, but Ryan can take it. NightNight Bergara has a reputation to uphold. _Strongest arms in the business_.

 

Shane still seems stunned as Ryan puts him to bed and undresses himself. It isn’t until Ryan slips under the covers next to him that he speaks again:

 

“You… You really are staying?”

Ryan huffs and pulls him closer.

“You asked me to, remember?”

“I didn’t know if you-” Shane swallows. “Thank you.”

Ryan bites his bottom lip. Part of him knows this is a surefire way to get fucked. But somehow, he can’t pull away from this, whatever this is. A small voice of self preservation in his head warns him that this guy could be the death of him and Ryan takes in Shane’s face, recalling the desperation with which the guy had sucked him off, the look he had gotten when he closed his hand around this man’s throat, the glances they threw each other while working, the dancing…

 

He realizes he doesn’t care. If this guy was going to be the death of him, then Ryan “NightNight” Bergara would gladly walk straight into hell if it meant more of these nights. Nights of rough fucking and lots of drinking, just the way he liked them.

 

But also more of _this_.

Shane buries his head against Ryan’s chest and Ryan holds onto him, feels the other man’s arms wind around his back, the heartbeat and breathing of another person in the bed, the warmth that comes with sleeping in someone else’s arms… And he _exhales_.

 

They melt into each other and Ryan accepts that he already is totally fucked.

 

There is sometimes serenity in being totally fucked.

 

Maybe that’s why he falls asleep so easily.

 

Yeah. _Maybe_.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His car isn’t at Madej’s place, so he decides to walk. It’s Summer, so the first hints of light are brightening the sky already and the cool, relatively fresh air helps him think. He walks in the vague direction of his own home, hands deep in his pockets as he tries not to think about Legs. Legs, well, Shane, waking up in his bed – alone. Realizing that NightNight broke his promise. Forcing himself out of the bed – alone.
> 
> NightNight thinks of their last fuck before falling asleep. Would Shane’s voice even work if he calls out for Ryan in the empty apartment? Would the man have to walk through every room on his own, each sight of the empty place reaffirming his suspicions that Ryan had left?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No special warnings for this one. It might get a bit emotional, oops.

He awakens at about four in the morning, all the feelings of serenity wiped from his mind. Legs is still asleep, thankfully. He has buried his face against NightNight’s chest as if looking for a hiding spot. He snuffles slightly in his sleep and Ryan wonders if that’s what woke him up.

 

This wasn’t right. They weren’t people who could hook up and stay together, maybe move into a little house and adopt a dog. Their job is to kill and harm and destroy and then hide that they did it. What is he _thinking_? He lets the emotional weakness of a post-fuck cuddle mess with his entire career.

 

Ryan carefully disentangles himself and leaves the bed without waking his partner. NightNight Bergara has a reputation. He’s dangerous when unhinged, but reliable in general. He’s not going to let a guy with a pretty face and a cute body destroy everything he worked for.

 

Without much of a fuss he gets dressed, checks twice to make sure he isn’t leaving anything behind he has to come back for and leaves the apartment. When he pulls the door shut behind him, he feels like something settles in his stomach. A thick, heavy feeling of regret and he quickly rushes down the stairs before it can pull him back in.

 

His car isn’t at Madej’s place, so he decides to walk. It’s Summer, so the first hints of light are brightening the sky already and the cool, relatively fresh air helps him think. He walks in the vague direction of his own home, hands deep in his pockets as he tries not to think about Legs. Legs, well, Shane, waking up in his bed – alone. Realizing that NightNight broke his promise. Forcing himself out of the bed – alone.

 

NightNight thinks of their last fuck before falling asleep. Would Shane’s voice even work if he calls out for Ryan in the empty apartment? Would the man have to walk through every room on his own, each sight of the empty place reaffirming his suspicions that Ryan had left?

 

He feels sick and blames it on alcohol and morning breath. Without thinking too much, he hails a taxi and tells the driver his address. He heads home, almost runs up the stairs and slams his door with some finality. He breathes out.

 

It’s just some guy he works with. Sure, he doesn’t look bad at all, he can dance, he has a sense of humor, he appreciates NightNight’s “work” and their sex is mindblowing. But that doesn’t mean that Ryan has to act all married, waking the other with kisses in the first rays of morning light, getting up to make breakfast-

 

NightNight Bergara curses in colorful ways and starts to tear his clothes off. He jumps in the shower and scrubs himself down with almost boiling water, just so he can feel something else than the sickness in his stomach. There is the thought of jerking off but he knows who his thoughts would drift back to so he ends the shower by wrenching off the hot water and forcing himself to stand under the cold spray, muscles clenching painfully as his jaw tenses so he doesn’t yell at the sudden change. He dries off lazily and drops naked and still damp on his bed. He hasn’t changed the sheets since Legs was here and his bed still carries the scent of their fucking. It also just smells a bit of Shane in general. He stares at his phone. 5:30 am.

 

_Fuck._

 

Ryan bites his bottom lip, ready to scream out his frustration or break something. Preferably, someone’s nose or jaw. Instead, he cusses more and catapults himself off of the bed to stomp towards his closet.

 

_Fuck._

 

Three minutes later, he emerges in a simple white T-shirt and washed out jeans. He puts on sneakers before leaving the house, grabbing some change from the tray in his kitchen as he passes it.

 

 _Fuck it._ He thinks. _I accepted I’m totally fucked, didn’t I? What a coward you are, NightNight, running away from the fate you already accepted. You’d be the guy to nod at the devil in passing while strutting into hell but feeling **soft** suddenly sends you packing with your tail between your legs? You’re better than this._

 

He spits out as he leaves his home, making a promise to himself and whatever higher power is watching.

 

_I will not let this fucked up world destroy me. I will not let this fucked up world destroy **us**._

 

Uber is his saving grace, with no Taxi in sight. The man in front looks a little out of it and maybe he doesn’t get up this early on other days. Ryan stares out of the window and only tears his gaze away once. It’s when he gets a text from Jen.

 

 **Jen:** _Good work @ the deli. Take a couple days off. Legs, too. I’ll text when smth_ _h_ _appens._

 

He stares. Sometimes, fate has a strange sense of humor.

 

-

 

Ryan gets out two blocks away from his destination. He gets sidetracked and dips into a bakery. Ten minutes of chit-chat with the Italo-American lady behind the counter later he leaves with a paper bag and a strange flush to his cheeks. He bought a bunch of shit he barely knows but sounds like it could be good and it’s kind of dumb but somehow it doesn’t feel _too_ dumb.

 

The door of Legs’ apartment complex doesn’t close properly and NightNight shoves it open, forgoes the lift and takes the stairs, rushing them up by taking two with each step. Then he is back in front of the apartment, standing still for a second or two.

 

Whatever had been caught in his stomach earlier, the slimy, heavy sickness, had vanished somewhere between him spitting in front of his apartment and the warm, sweet air in the Italian bakery. However, he now feels a strange pressure in his throat, as if something is trying to strangle him from the inside. Maybe that’s what it is, he thinks, as he feels his eyes moisten. It would make sense, because he is not ready to face an alternative explanation. Ryan stares at the door, almost ready to turn and run again, when it suddenly opens.

 

Shane is standing in front of him, wearing only a pair of pajama pants and his glasses. His hair is a mess, the mark on his neck in the shape of NightNight’s hand has turned from bruised red to a dark-ish purple and his face-

He looks _empty_ , Ryan thinks. His eyes are open but his gaze seems stuck on something far away. His mouth is turned down in a frown, the corner twitching ever so slightly. NightNight can spot a letterbox key cradled in those long fingers and he sees it slip and fall when Legs looks up and stops, startled. Ryan dodges forward just in time to catch it in his own palm.

 

When he straightens up again, Shane’s eyes are on him. The tall man’s mouth is slightly open, he seems stunned, surprised, _incredulous_ even. His cheeks, which looked sickly pale before are starting to redden. He carefully reaches out and takes the key back that Ryan is offering. For a moment, he just stands in the door of his apartment, looking at him.

 

Ryan clears his throat.

“I’m sorry I left. I guess I broke that promise, which is a shit thing to do. It’s not how you treat…” He swallows. “A partner.” A thin voice in the back of his mind calls him a coward and he takes a deep breath.

“I did bring breakfast… you can have it to yourself, I’d get it.” He holds out the paper bag and Shane takes it as if in trance. “But if you want… any company. I think there is enough for two.”

 

He can’t look at Shane anymore, so he stares at the tips of his shoes. NightNight Bergara feels something he hasn’t felt in years. _Shame_ . He feels ashamed of his actions, of being _afraid_ , of letting his mind take over in a way he didn’t know it could, take over in a way it hadn’t before, not even when he falls into his fighting trance. He ran away like a child runs away from the monster in the closet.

 

_Some roughhouser you are, running away because you’re afraid that you might catch **feelings**._

 

When Shane moves in front of him, he slowly glances up. The other man is glancing into the bag, taking in the contents and Ryan sees the first telltale twitches of a smile on that soft, beautiful face.

“I think,” Legs starts and NightNight gulps at the hoarseness of the voice. The man’s throat is scratchy, no wonder considering the abuse he took from Ryan’s cock last night and when Shane notices that the other man zeroed in on it, he starts to grin.

 

“I think you can keep me company. You can make some tea for me.”

 

There it is, a throwaway sentence that carries a lot of meaning.

 

 _Come in, have breakfast with me. Spend time with me that isn’t work or fucking. Do something nice and caring for me to make up for something I did for you. Show me you’re ready to follow an order of mine, because we are equal._ _Stay._

 

To a point, it even means: _Get ready to embarrass yourself a little bit because I know you don’t know shit about tea._

 

Ryan only nods. Under other circumstances, he would clench his fists or grit his teeth. But right now, he just feels relief. Shane smiles at him.

 

“Good. Let me just grab the mail real quick, I’ll be right back.”

He hands the bag back to Ryan and before standing up straight again, he presses a soft kiss to the shorter man’s cheek. Ryan feels his eyes blink rapidly at the warmth that settles in his stomach, soothing the last bit of discomfort the disgust from earlier has left.

 

“Okay.” He says. “I’ll make some coffee, too, I need the caffeine in the morning.”

Shane gives him a smirk.

“Understandable. You were up early.”

 

Suddenly, Ryan wonders if Shane saw him leaving, if Shane spend the last two-and-a-half hours in his apartment, thinking about how NightNight had stolen himself away from the place as if Shane is something to be ashamed of. As if the night when Ryan said that he is more of a hole to get off in had been a huge lie. As if being around him was somehow a burden.

 

Ryan swallows after Shane has descended the first flight of stairs.

 

There are a lot of things he has to figure out. But he gets to pick and choose what to deal with and when he deals with it.

He adjusts the bag in his arms and walks into Shane’s apartment.

For now, his first mission is to figure out how to make proper tea and where Legs keeps the coffee beans. It’s enough of a mission for an early morning.

 

-

 

They take a few days off.

 

After a quiet but comfortable breakfast, Ryan excuses himself to fix up his flat a little. They haven’t talked about anything in particular yet and he needs a little space to think and focus. So he lets Shane walk him to the door and kisses him goodbye, because right now he can stand how _normal_ that feels and how much like they are everyday people who are dating. Then he goes home and tears the covers from his bed, does the laundry and washing up and vacuums.

 

It helps a bit. He knows his life isn’t a _mess_ , but he doesn’t feel capable of calling it normal either. When he was a kid he would always get into fights and eventually he would realize how much he enjoyed hurting people. How exhilarating it was to break the nose of someone who was being a little shit. The feeling of his knuckles bruising against bone giving way, the smell of blood and the offending person falling to the ground had given him more than any drug, drink or relationship could ever give him.

 

Until now.

 

He sits on his sofa and stares at his clean carpet. It doesn’t smell of cigarette ash anymore and he suddenly feels uncomfortable with lighting up in the living room, so he goes to the window, sits on the sill and smokes there. Ryan stares at the city below, sucks the nicotine into his lungs and wonders what Shane is doing.

 

If he’s honest, he’s still scared. What did the guy write in the little horror novel? Something about fear being the strongest emotion known to man? Seems about right. But the follow up was more important: The worst fear was the fear of the unknown and Ryan knows the guy probably talked about space or the deep sea but he figures, it fits his situation too.

 

He doesn’t fucking know what to do if he wants to be someone’s… _boyfriend_. He makes a face at the thought and flicks the butt of his cigarette down onto the street. It sounds ridiculous. _Boyfriends_ are guys with college haircuts and signs that ask girls to prom and a condom in their wallet for way too long. Boyfriends are notes in lockers and text messages and little gifts. Boyfriends are sitting on couches watching TV and putting and arm around- _hm_.

 

Ryan lights another cigarette. _So_ , he thinks, flicking the ash out of the window. _Maybe I want Shane to be my boyfriend. Or lover, whatever. What would that mean? Would I put my work and by an extend my life on the line for him?_ He actually isn’t sure. It’s too early. But he would appreciate if them hanging out between jobs and going to bars and fucking was a regular thing. If they could just spend time with each other without any of these things. Legs can read, he can watch something on TV and they can enjoy the fact that they don’t sit at home alone doing the same shit. He could see himself sharing a living space one day, if the whole thing works out. Maybe he should tell the guy that.

 

He composes a text.

 

_I have no idea what I’m doing but I feel the need to say this. There is something between us that I am trying to figure out. If you don’t have any interest, that’s fine, but I would like to get to know you better._

 

Shane texts back almost right away and Ryan wonders if the guy has been waiting for him to do something.

 

 **Legs:** _Can’t say I don’t have interest. I think I know what you mean._

 

There is a moment of silence but Ryan sees the dots popping up. Shane is typing.

 

 **Legs:** _What do you propose we’ll do about it?_

 

Ryan sits up and licks his lips, phone cradled in both hands. He could just tell Shane to come over and fuck him into the mattress again. Maybe he could suggest they take a couple days apart to see if his… _infatuation_ is just a side effect from adrenaline and their shared interest in things that normal people aren’t aroused by, like death and blood. But he has promised himself not to be a coward anymore so he very carefully types back.

 

_I was thinking about asking you out. On a proper date. Dinner, drinks, whatever you want._

 

He stares at the marker that tells him that Legs read the message. Somehow, time around him seems to slow down. Ryan can’t remember ever being _anxious_ about a text.

 

 **Legs:** _Sounds good. But only if you allow me to take you dancing some time._

 

Ryan lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he’s been holding. He wants to type back something short, simple. Maybe “Deal”. Before he can decide, however, he gets one more text.

 

 **Legs:** _Thank you_.

 

His finger hovers over the screen and Ryan narrows his eyes. _This is dangerous_ , he thinks. Maybe Shane “Legs” Madej is someone who can carve a guy up without remorse or set a house on fire just to hide what happened there. But this morning when he came back Ryan had seen a part of the guy that he doesn’t feel comfortable with. _Vulnerability_ . The guy could get hurt. Not physically, he seems to quite like that, but _emotionally_. He’s the type to hold onto the person who choked him on their dick and threw him around and put their hand on his throat just to ask them in a broken voice not to leave. He’s the kind of guy who wakes up in an empty bed and looks like death because of it. He’s the type who came to Ryan's place the first night, thinking that NightNight wanted a warm body with a heartbeat to satisfy his needs only to shove him onto the street afterwards.

 

Ryan’s teeth dig in his bottom lip. He’s pretty chill with hurting people. He _loves_ it, if he’s honest. Hurting Shane in bed is delicious because the man wants it so much and because it has effects on his body that Ryan wants to see, wants to partake in.

But hurting Shane emotionally, maybe even – as dumb as it sounds – _break his heart_ is something NightNight Bergara doesn’t want to do. So he has to be careful, really careful because he could fuck this up so bad, so easily, knowing jack shit about how emotional connections work and how not to leave someone in pieces.

 

Maybe he can make it. He feels like he has to try. He certainly wants to. His eyes flicker back to the text. With a deep breath, he types his short answer.

 

_You’re welcome, big guy._

 

-

 

“Fuck.” Shane groans against his mouth. He tastes of the bourbon they were drinking, which eliminated all the taste of the dinner they had at a little Italian place before. Ryan is shoved against the wall outside of the bar they just left, feeling pleasantly buzzed and not at all upset about Legs taking the lead. He fists his hands in the other man’s hair, groaning as fingertips dig into the back of his neck. It feels glorious to have Shane’s tongue in his mouth, the other man _so eager_ about them going out. He has dressed up, too. Not that Ryan looks bad in his dark pants and red Henley. But Legs looks to die for in his dark blue suit. He can’t wait to rip it off of him.

Shane pulls back, dragging Ryan’s lower lip between his teeth for a moment before he lets go and backs off a little. He stares at Ryan with wide eyes and the shorter man feels a tingle of _something_ , like he should ask. Before he can say anything, however, Shane kisses him again, hard and desperate. Ryan can hear him suck in a deep breath through his nose as they are pressed together.

“Fuck.” He mutters again, breath fanning out over Ryan’s lips. “It feels-”

Again he’s on him, clutching onto Ryan’s face as he presses their mouths together. It’s not hot and demanding anymore. He keeps his mouth closed and simply pushes against the other man. All of a sudden it’s confusing, as if the air has shifted around them. Ryan groans and moves his hands to Shane’s shoulders.

 

Part of him really just wants to shove a hand in the taller man’s pants and get his mind elsewhere, but he has the feeling he is witnessing something important that has to be addressed. He can’t decide what to do, so he kisses back with vigor, hoping to coax it out of Shane’s mouth and Shane’s hands wander to press against the wall behind Ryan and then suddenly, he pushes off, tears himself away and turns, hunching over. Ryan notices how fast his own breathing is and that he is straining in his pants, but something about Shane is different.

The man is bent over and shuddering, a hand pressed to his mouth as if he’s about to throw up. No. This guy can hold his liquor. Ryan pushes himself off of the wall and walks over. Shane looks like he’s _ashamed_ , eyes wide and staring ahead. He flinches when Ryan touches his shoulder, but doesn’t jerk away. Shane allows him to take his arm and yank him into an embrace.

 

NightNight Bergara has no idea what to do when a partner, romantic or not, has a breakdown. He’s thought about slapping him in the face, but that doesn’t seem right, so he just wraps his arms around the other man’s torso and holds him still until Shane stops shaking and melts into the hold.

 

“I’m sorry.”

“Shut up. No harm done,” Ryan growls. He contemplates for a second. “Wanna talk about it?”

Shane shakes his head on his shoulder.

“Not now. Not… yet.” He huffs a breath. “I think we should leave.”

“Want me to give you a ride home?”

“No.” Shane pulls his head back and looks at him. “Take me to yours. You went through a lot of trouble tonight, would be a shame if your date doesn’t put out.”

Ryan laughs, shaking his head.

“That’s not why I did it, fucker.”

“I know.” Shane grins down at him, eyes dragging over Ryan’s face till the gaze ends on his lips. “But I want you. Want you to bend me over and take your prize. If you’re up for it, that is.”

Ryan growls and shows his teeth.

“What do you think?”

“I think you might be.”

While they are waiting for their ride, Ryan shoves Shane against the wall and sinks his teeth in his neck until Shane is begging for mercy.

 

He hasn’t forgotten about the incident, but he decides it’s Shane’s business if he tells him what it was about and when he shares it if he ever does. Right now, the taller man seems very happy with letting it slide and them dry humping each other in an alley until finally, the car pulls up to take them to Ryan’s apartment. It can be discussed later.

 

Ryan has the feeling this wasn’t their last date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? Lud adds fluff to the VIOLENTLY FUCKING MURDER BOYFRIENDS? It's more likely than you think.
> 
> I'm so sorry. I'm a mess.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You alright?” He hears himself ask before he can do anything to stop it.
> 
> “I’m great.” Shane murmurs.
> 
> He allows Ryan to take off the tie and his shirt and Ryan decides it’s already messy enough, so he uses it to clean them up before chucking it under the bed.
> 
> “I can give you one of mine tomorrow.” He says as he sees Shane follow it with his eyes. Shane glances up at him as if gauging for any implications, but Ryan simply stretches out on top of the other man and starts playing with his hair. The more he goes for the delicate touches, the more he finds himself craving them and it should make him nervous, but right now he is too relaxed to care.
> 
> When his hand trails down Shane’s cheek, the taller man catches it and presses it against his face, turning his head to plant a kiss in Ryan’s palm.
> 
> Ryan stares at him and then shakes his head.
> 
> “What in the world are you doing to me, Stretch.” He mutters, realizing how afraid he sounds.
> 
> Shane doesn’t answer, but he clutches his hand a little tighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about the Angst.

They both stumble into Ryan’s apartment, Shane almost falling backwards because he had been pressed against the door while Ryan tried to fumble the key in the lock. He tosses his keys god-knows-where and kicks the door shut, barely taking time to lock it before he pushes Legs back further until the tall man is shoved against the wall. He sucks and bites at already abused lips, enjoying how the other man slowly starts to sink down as if his legs are finally giving out. Ryan fists his hands in the other man’s shirt and yanks him up again before pinning him against the wall.

 

“Listen, sweetheart,” he grumbles, the term not even feeling like a threat but dangerously honest. “I’ll take you up on the offer of bending you over now, unless you changed your mind.”

Shane’s eyes widen and Ryan can see his throat bob as he swallows.

“Fuck. Please do that.”

Ryan feels a grin split his face and he turns, tugging Shane along and then pushing him backwards, causing him to stumble out of the entryway. While they are moving, he pushes the dark blue suit jacket off and leaves it on his floor. Shane glances over his shoulder occasionally to prevent slamming into things until they reach the counter near Ryan’s kitchen. Without much of a fuss, Ryan turns Shane around and bends him over. Sure, the guy is ridiculously tall, but his hips are at just the right height so he can be folded in half next to the counter. Shane’s upper body slams into the surface while his hips and ass jut out towards Ryan.

 

“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it, prettyboy?” Ryan licks his lips as Shane lowers his body even more, pressing himself down on the counter top while pushing his ass in the air. Ryan steps closer and starts to grind his hips into the (only slightly bony) ass in front of him and he hears the other man whine a little.

“Fuck yeah.”

“Yeah?” Ryan feels a cocky grin plaster itself on his face as he thrusts his half-hard dick against Shane’s ass. “Tell me what you want, then. Be my good little slut.”

He feels the other man shudder under his grip.

“I want you. I want you to take me, claim me, do whatever you want to me.”

Ryan digs his teeth in his bottom lip to keep himself from groaning. His hips still press forward and his dick is very interested in the way Shane keeps rocking back at him. Ryan figures that Shane sees no need for making out more or some heavy petting or whatever foreplay might have occurred, so he simply reaches around Shane and undoes his belt, button and fly.

When Ryan pulls Shane’s pants down the man gasps and braces himself on the counter. There is a shiver that isn’t quite excitement and he can see how Shane brings a hand up to bite in the fleshy part next to the thumb, as if bracing himself. Ryan is stunned for a moment when he realizes what the other man is expecting.

 

“Hey now, Stretch.” He whispers and runs a hand through Shane’s hair, soothing him. “I’m not gonna fuck you dry, you idiot. I know you like pain but there’s a threshold, okay?”

Shane is frozen for a moment, before he slowly relaxes, tension melting out of him as he lets go of his hand.

Ryan is still reeling. Sure, the idea of just bending Shane over and fucking into him is hot, but even in his imagination, Shane is ready to take him and _enjoys_ being filled up. Despite everything NightNight Bergara does at his job, his pleasure with sex doesn’t come from the agony of others. Sure, the sight of a target breathing their last breath underneath him gets him going like nothing else, but he sees no pleasure in basically forcing himself on a sexual partner. He’s fucked up but not like _that_.

Instead, he reaches out to rub over Shane’s ass and grins.

“I’ll make sure you’re good and ready for me, able to take my cock when I want to fuck you.”

Shane shudders underneath him and turns his head to look at Ryan.

“It’s okay.” He whispers. “It’s fine, I can take it-”

Ryan smacks him on the ass. It’s not exactly hard, just a quick slap to stop him from being stupid. Shane gasps and a slight flush rises in his cheeks.

“Shut up, Shane.”

He smacks him again for good measure and the man at his mercy jolts and whines for a moment, looking over his shoulder at Ryan, his eyes huge and begging. Ryan whistles quietly.

 

_Interesting. I should get back to that later._

 

His hand kneads the reddening cheek as he stares at Shane’s face. There is that air of desperation around him again that Ryan has seen before, whether the taller guy is bent in half underneath him in Ryan’s bed or shoved against the wall outside of the bar. It’s as if he wants something but doesn’t dare ask for it and Ryan shoves out his bottom lip in contemplation. He could make Shane just tell him what he wants, but he has to admit it’s much more fun figuring out how the guy works on his own. He knows he likes pain, he likes it when NightNight takes control, manhandles and hurts and chokes him. He likes seeing him destroy things and finish people off.

But… then again, Legs likes picnics and cuddling on the couch and dancing and he laughs at silly jokes and falls asleep buried in Ryan’s arms with his face hidden against his chest as if this 6’4” man was somehow small and vulnerable. Ryan has seen part of that in the bedroom – or wherever they ended up – as well and he has the feeling he hasn’t quite explored it yet.

 

_Would be a very boyfriend thing to do to tend to his needs, huh._

 

Ryan gives himself a push and leans over Shane to run a hand through his hair again. Then he drags it down, palm flat against the other man’s spine, coaxing him to lie down on the counter in a more relaxed fashion before he bunches the shirt up and slips his hand underneath to stroke the skin. Shane sighs underneath him, melting into the hard surface and Ryan grins as he steps back a little and brings both hands to his hips.

 

“I’m gonna try something, alright? Tell me if you hate it.”

Shane whimpers and nods, head still pillowed on his arms and he groans a little when Ryan’s hands move to his ass and spread the cheeks.

 

_Alright. Here goes nothing._

 

He wets his lips again before he crouches down and presses his flat tongue to Shane’s balls. The man in front of him hisses, but doesn’t move. He lets out a groan, however, as Ryan drags his tongue up, over the taint until he flicks it over Shane’s hole.

“Ah- _fuck_.” There is a deep inhale above him and then a growl: “Do that again.”

Ryan grins to himself. He grabs Shane’s ass a little harder, fingertips digging into the flesh.

“Again?”

“P-please?”

He huffs a bit of a laugh. It hadn’t been his goal to goad the guy into begging for it, but he won’t complain. It’s pretty hot. He leans forward and allows his breath to tickle against the sensitive skin, laughing when Shane starts to squirm. Then he puts his mouth on him again, sucking on the hole for a moment before pressing the tip of his tongue against it.

Shane starts to whine and it sounds slightly muffled. He is probably pressing his arm to his mouth and Ryan would almost prefer it if he heard all of the reactions to what he’s doing. His tongue pushes inside of Shane and he’s glad he’s holding him because the man jolts and for a moment, Ryan thinks he’s going to fall off of the counter. Well then, Shane is clearly into what he’s doing so Ryan doubles his effort, mouth pressed between Shane’s cheeks as he works him open with his tongue, traces the rim and occasionally pulls back to see the opening twitch and clench, now wet with spit. Shane’s slowly reduced to little moans and huffs and Ryan can see his knees start to buckle.

Finally, when Ryan can push his tongue fully in without feeling much resistance, he pulls back and smacks Shane on the ass once more, this time picking the other cheek. Shane yelps and clutches at the counter while Ryan stands up.

“Alright then, I think we should move this to the bedroom.” He grins as Shane slowly pushes himself up on weak arms, glancing over his shoulder at Ryan and Ryan notes with satisfaction that the guy is flushed and his hair is mussed. Shane swallows and just kicks his shoes off to step out of his pants and underwear. He leaves them on the ground and makes his way to the bedroom. Ryan looks after him with a wolfish grin because the sight of Legs in shirt, tie and socks and nothing else is delicious. Ryan undoes the top button of his shirt because the collar feels suddenly tight and then he follows. When he steps into his bedroom, his dick twitches in his pants because Shane has found a way to make the outfit look even better.

 

Legs is on the bed, belly down and knees propped up so his ass is in the air as he’s bent over with his face buried in his arms. He’s still wearing the shirt, but it’s slowly riding up now.

Ryan feels his grin widen as he pulls his own shirt off and chucks it to the side. Shane’s head moves a little and he glances over his shoulder. Ryan can see him grin and he answers with a waggle of his eyebrows. Then he makes a quick detour to his side table to retrieve the lube, running his hand through Shane’s hair and then down his back as he walks around the bed. He feels Shane relax under his touch and for a moment, he falters. Ryan notices that he’s getting a bit more… sweet with the guy and even though it’s unfamiliar, he still can’t deny that it feels good. Shane always reacts to his touch, but so far it’s been more that he gets excited when Ryan throws him around a little and now he melts into the mattress because Ryan strokes a hand down his spine.

NightNight Bergara is not used to being flustered, but he has to gather his wits for a moment before he pulls his hand away and runs it through his hair.

_Well then. That’s new._

He decides to deal with it later. Right now, Shane is bent over in front of him like Ryan intended and he is clearly hoping for some attention that Ryan is more than willing to give him. He uncaps the bottle of lube and spreads some on his fingers before he kneels on the bed behind Shane. His clean hand grabs Shane’s ass again and pulls one cheek aside before pressing two lubed up fingers against the other man’s hole. Eating him out earlier had clearly helped Shane to relax, because the fingers slide in without much trouble. Ryan can hear a relieved groan and smirks a bit, twisting his fingers so he can tease the guy’s prostate. Shane whines again and scrambles for a pillow to dig his head into. Ryan lets him for now, but he makes a mental note of getting Shane’s head up later, so he can hear the delicious noises the guy is producing.

He is mostly focusing on getting Shane ready to take his cock, but he still takes the time to tease and spread him a little, as he’s hunting for the spots that he knows will cause Shane to jerk and the cock between his legs to dribble. Then he lubes up a third finger and pushes in, testing the waters. Shane thrusts back against his fingers and Ryan chuckles.

“You’re so fucking impatient, Shane. It’s not like we have to be somewhere. We can take our time.”

Shane groans into the pillow and then lifts his head a bit.

“I don’t _want_ to wait any longer. I want _you_.”

Ryan bites his bottom lip and spreads his fingers experimentally. Shane seems to be taking it well, so he decides to trust the guy’s feelings and risk it. He wipes his hands on the sheets, not caring if they get dirty and undoes his pants to shove them off. Then he grabs the lube again to slick himself up, hissing at the cool feeling.

“Alright, you better know what you’re doing, babe.” He leans over and plants a kiss on Shane’s tailbone and is rewarded with a huff of laughter. Then he pulls Shane’s hips closer and pushes up on his knees so he can line himself up. Shane is slick and open and clearly ready, so he adds some more pressure and groans as he slides in. Underneath him, he can hear Shane moan and as he slowly curves his body over Shane’s, he reaches down and puts a hand between the guy’s shoulder blades. Shane huffs and turns his head to the side, so he can breathe while resting on the pillow. Ryan continues to push till Shane has taken all of him and through the haze the tight feeling brings to his head, he can see the eyes of the man underneath him close and his face take on an expression of pure bliss.

“You like that, huh.” He groans, feeling the first prickles of sweat on his skin. His hand pushes up and through Shane’s hair where the fingers grab onto the strands hard. Shane groans and nods, despite being held by the hair and Ryan pulls him up a little to look at his face.

“I like it too, don’t get me wrong.” He rolls his hips a little and sees Shane’s mouth drop open. “But more than fucking your tight ass till you’re begging I like seeing you like this. You’re so desperate for it, so hungry for my cock and knowing that all you want is to bend over and take it is delicious.”

He grins down at Shane as their eyes met and Shane’s face slowly morphs into a smile.

“Yeah? Good. Because I love this.” He presses his upper body even lower so the angle changes and Ryan hisses as he feels the warm vice around him clench. “I fucking love your cock. In my mouth, in my ass, I don’t care. Want you. Want your cock and your cum deep inside of me and I want you to do whatever you want to me.” His eyes close again and he pants a little, smile still in place.

Ryan feels his eyebrows knit together. Shane already looks so blissed out even though he hasn’t even fucked him yet. Shane is happy being his little cock warmer and Ryan makes a note for later to add that title to things to call the guy that will get a rise out of him. But also, Shane, who knows that Ryan isn’t out to destroy him, puts his body in Ryan’s hands, gives him full control and again, it’s intimate and _trusting_ and Ryan sucks in a breath as he feels like he’s getting a lump in his throat.

It’s not something to think about in detail when you have your dick in someone’s ass, he decides, so he uses his grip on Shane to pull out a little and then thrust in hard with a primal grunt. Shane yelps underneath and Ryan can see his mouth open. A soft, whispered _yes_ reaches his ears and it’s enough to get him going. He grabs Shane’s hips tighter with both hands and starts to thrust in and out fast and hard, hearing Shane whimper and moan underneath him as he enjoys plunging into the tight heat.

Shane’s shirt slips up his body further as his body is rocked on the mattress and Ryan leans over and grabs at the tie, half undone but still around Shane’s neck.

He pulls the longer end up and wraps it around his hand twice before pulling on it. Shane gasps as the fabric tightens around his neck harsh enough so his head is yanked back. He shoots up from the pillow, back bending and Ryan uses the new leverage to thrust harder and pull Shane against him whenever he shoves in. Shane reaches one hand up, but he doesn’t grab at the tie, he simply runs his fingers over it as he barely balances his position on the other hand. He’s rocking back against Ryan, letting short breaths and nonsense words tumble out of his mouth whenever he gets enough air to speak. Ryan feels himself getting closer and he yanks on the tie once, revels in Shane throwing his head back far enough so Ryan can see his face and grins as he sees the flush of arousal on his face. Shane’s eyes roll back, his mouth stands open and Ryan groans and lets the tie go.

 

As he folds over Shane’s back, he almost whimpers before wrapping his arms around his shoulders. A couple more thrusts and then Ryan fills Shane up, hearing the gasps and moans underneath him. Shane starts to tighten around him, flexing to milk him dry and Ryan drags his mouth over Shane’s clothed shoulder and bites in the juncture of his neck, sweaty fabric filling his mouth as they rock together a couple more times. One arm is still wrapped tightly around Shane’s front but the other wanders until his fingers brush Shane’s hard dick. It’s wet with precum and Ryan grasps at it, feeling how part of the shirt gets caught around it. He doesn’t care. Shane is whimpering underneath and from what Ryan can make out, he’s begging, so he decides to give.

He jerks Shane fast and rough and with his dick still buried in the guy, he feels the rhythmic clenching around him as Shane lets out a shudder and comes all over Ryan’s hand, into the fabric of his shirt and on the sheets. Ryan grins and kisses the spot he was biting a moment ago and he hears Shane softly moan his name. It almost sounds like a sob.

 

“It’s alright.” Ryan huffs and noses against Shane’s neck. “It’s okay. I got you.”

Shane’s hand comes up and cups Ryan’s against his chest and for a moment they stay that way, with Ryan still mounting him and Shane holding him in place.

 

When they untangle, Ryan pulls out to carefully roll Shane on his back and check his neck. The tie has left an imprint, but it isn’t as bad as the one from his hand has been. Shane is breathing normally again and his smile turns almost smug as Ryan carefully trails his fingers around his neck and undoes the tie.

 

“You alright?” He hears himself ask before he can do anything to stop it.

“I’m great.” Shane murmurs.

 

He allows Ryan to take off the tie and his shirt and Ryan decides it’s already messy enough, so he uses it to clean them up before chucking it under the bed.

“I can give you one of mine tomorrow.” He says as he sees Shane follow it with his eyes. Shane glances up at him as if gauging for any implications, but Ryan simply stretches out on top of the other man and starts playing with his hair. The more he goes for the delicate touches, the more he finds himself craving them and it should make him nervous, but right now he is too relaxed to care.

When his hand trails down Shane’s cheek, the taller man catches it and presses it against his face, turning his head to plant a kiss in Ryan’s palm.

 

Ryan stares at him and then shakes his head.

“What in the world are you doing to me, Stretch.” He mutters, realizing how afraid he sounds.

Shane doesn’t answer, but he clutches his hand a little tighter.

 

-

 

They spend a good part of the next morning in bed. Ryan learns that despite Shane’s preferences, the guy isn’t averse to slow and lazy morning sex. He hasn’t really planned on it, but the spooning position they woke up in ends with Ryan grinding against the taller man’s ass, arms curled around Shane with one hand wrapped around the other man’s dick and the other cupping his throat carefully. Shane simply leans his head back and rolls his hips to meet Ryan and they don’t last too long after Ryan bites down on the side of Shane’s neck.

 

Afterwards they shower together and Shane washes Ryan’s hair, amused when Ryan grumbles that he can do it himself. He doesn’t push him off, though and Shane keeps massaging his scalp which does indeed feel very nice. Ryan might even have admitted it in a groan and he is sure that Shane heard him. He dresses in a print t-shirt and jeans and after some digging, he finds a shirt he bought a size to big that looks surprisingly good on Shane in combination with his dress pants. Shane checks himself out in the mirror and Ryan finds himself grinning, thinking about letting him keep it.

 

His home doesn’t really have proper food right now, so Ryan drives them to one of his favorite coffee places where they can have breakfast and he is delighted to see that Shane flushes as he gingerly sits down on a chair and moves until he finds a comfortable position. Shane catches his eye and allows himself a quick smirk before his face falls back into a neutral expression and he brings up the menu to study it.

 

-

 

Money comes in for a job well done and Ryan stares at the notification from his bank and muses what he should do with it. He could spend it on tickets for a sports even or maybe a pair of ridiculously expensive shoes he’ll never wear. But his mind wanders as he thoughtfully taps the corner of his cellphone against his teeth.

He _could_ spend it to go out with Shane, even though the guy probably just got his own payment and is pretty with paying for his own entertainment and relaxation. Still, Ryan _likes_ to spend money and even though he doesn’t seem to be the type, he sometimes enjoys spoiling someone. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d invite a lover to Vegas or buy an expensive bottle of champagne to share with someone, but thinking of Shane as just another lover doesn’t work anymore.

 

They’re partners. On more levels than one and he should maybe pick something the guy likes. Maybe he can just take him drinking in a nice bar, they could play a couple of games of pool and maybe, just maybe he’ll allow Shane to drag him to the dance club and show him a few steps.

Ryan still isn’t very much interested in dancing, but it _would_ be a nice gesture.

 

 _A very boyfriend thing to do._ He thinks, not feeling as upset with the thought as before.

 

In the end, he asks Shane what he would like. They’re at the tall guy’s place and hang on the couch, a TV series playing. Shane seems to have a thing for popcorn, one that actually rivals Ryan’s thing for popcorn and they make an unhealthy amount to eat on one afternoon. Shane seems surprised at Ryan’s question.

 

“I don’t know yet. I was thinking of maybe taking a trip for a day or two, but…” His eyes flicker over to Ryan and Ryan feels a twinge of _something_ tensing between them.

“I could use a day somewhere else.” He says carefully, not sure if he’s reading Shane correctly. The relief on Shane’s face is instant and Ryan can see his shoulders drop from where they had been pulled up around his neck. Ryan swallows. Every time he gets a glimpse on how _attached_ Shane is getting, there is a little bit of fear that blooms somewhere in his stomach. This is dangerous, but he can’t find it in himself to stop it.

 

“We could… head out a bit. Find a place that’s not so, you know, “densely populated”. We could book a cabin for a day or two and hang in the woods.”

Ryan is surprised at that.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for someone to go hiking or live in cabins.”

Shane smirks at him.

“I grew up getting lost in corn fields and playing by rivers. I’m a true child of nature, baby.”

Ryan snorts and shakes his head, but he takes another handful of popcorn and nods.

 

“Okay then. So no five star suite and no champagne in a Jacuzzi? If you want a cabin in the woods, lets go for the cabin in the woods.”

Shane gives him a fond look and Ryan’s stomach flips. _Shit_.

“We can always come home and still book that suite.”

Ryan looks at him for a long moment, taking in the softness in Shane’s features and remembering again, how utterly fucked he is.

“Sounds good.”

 

-

 

It’s something Ryan doesn’t remember doing. Ever. He packs for a long weekend while facetiming Shane and they chat about the weather in Mono County and the places that are worth seeing. He finds out that Shane is equally amused by the concept of Cryptids, because he somehow found a report of hunters seeing one or two around Virginia Lakes. Shane apparently knows that at least one Bigfoot sighting was a “colleague” of theirs carrying a body on his back wrapped in a large fuzzy rug, which made him look like a lumbering, hairy humanoid from the distance.

Ryan laughs and still feels strange. He has never taken a holiday with someone he went out with. The relationships never lasted long enough and work was usually in the way. Even now, Jen could call any moment and they would have to come back. At least she knows they will be gone for a while.

He finds himself staring at his closet, picking practical clothing for the woods but also a suit that he knows makes him look irresistible. Maybe he will have a chance to wear it.

 

They meet at Ryan’s place and split a taxi to the car rental, because there is no way Ryan drags his baby across the state for five to six hours. They need something a little more… suited for dirt roads and he has to admit, the SUV is not bad at all. He drives and Shane picks their music. They only squabble about it a little bit and for a couple of hours, Ryan allows himself to believe he’s living a normal life. The life of someone who has an office job and visits his parents at least once a month and read “Virginia Lakes for Lovers” before they set out instead of grabbing his gun and loading it, because in their line of work you can never be sure. Shane starts singing along to the song he’s picked and his voice is not bad at all, so Ryan leans back and focuses on the road while he allows his partner to distract him from the things that go on in his head.

 

Halfway through the journey, Shane suggests giving him road head and Ryan laughs so hard he’s wheezing before he smacks at Shane’s wandering hands, not wanting to risk to crash the rental.

 

-

 

After getting settled in, they spend the rest of the day hiking. Shane is wearing a ridiculous combination of jeans, shirt, vest and a hat and he looks so dumb that Ryan has to pull him into a kiss. because if he doesn’t, he will keep staring at him in a stupid way and probably get distracted enough to fall into a ditch.

 

Despite being a city kid, Ryan has to admit that the area is lovely and that the hike makes him feel a lot better about driving for six hours. Shane takes his hand at one point and Ryan sees no reason to pull back. Out here, they can be just two boyfriends on a short holiday. They left NightNight Bergara and Legs Madej in L.A. and somehow, Ryan is fine with that. He doesn’t feel like he has to hit up the next pub and start a fight and when they eventually stop at one for a bite to eat, he enjoys his burger and beer without looking for confrontation. The patrons throw them one or two glances but he quickly picks up that it’s because they are clearly tourists, not because of anything else.

Ryan isn’t crushed. He doesn’t want to repeat the Neck disaster, especially not outside of his usual district. They sit in kind of a lull after their burgers are finished but then Shane gets up and walks over to the bar, returning with a set of billiard balls. He lifts an eyebrow indicating towards one of the empty pool tables and Ryan grins and puts his napkin down. They play two rounds against each other and Ryan very much enjoys watching Shane play, because the guy uses every inch of his ridiculously long limbs when playing. He also bends over. _A lot._ Ryan stands and watches, his head put on one side while he watches the guy work and he feels a small predatory grin creep on his face.

Shane stands up from where he has made his – pretty impressive – shot and catches Ryan’s eye. He lifts an eyebrow and winks at him and Ryan licks his lips.

 

It’s probably inappropriate to visit a new bar and then bang in the restroom right away and normally, NightNight wouldn’t give a shit, but Ryan, the tourist from L.A. has better manners. They pay and drive back to the cabin they rented and Shane has no problem with Ryan throwing him down on the fucking _shag carpet_ in front of the fireplace so he can put the ugly thing to the test.

 

Later, when they’re stretched out on the sofa, he traces the rug burn on Shane’s back, sometimes letting his fingernails dance over it because it makes the man in his arms shiver and sigh and he feels pretty damn good about everything. He has to ruin it somehow, of course.

Shane is chatting about everything and nothing, including a movie he plans to take Ryan to when they get back and a set of knives he found at an antique store and Ryan is listening, he really is, but then he pauses and looks at him. Shane notices the shift in the atmosphere and looks up.

 

“What did it feel like?” Ryan starts and he sees confusion rise behind Shane’s eyes, so he elaborates: “When you kissed me in front of the club a couple of days ago, you said ‘It feels’, but you broke off. Because you had… I guess a minor breakdown. What was that about?”

Shane’s relaxed smile drops from his face and Ryan feels him go rigid. He pauses the movement of his hand and rethinks his actions a little.

“Forget it. It’s none of my fucking business.” He mutters quickly but Shane pushes himself up from where he’s lying on Ryan and he knows it’s already too late. He’s opened the can of worms and now he has to deal with it.

 

For a moment, he thinks Shane is going to get up and leave. Maybe he’s even going to catch a ride back to Los Angeles. He wouldn’t blame him. The past is a shitty subject, especially in their line of work. Ryan isn’t entitled to anything that happened before they met and he’s pretty sure Shane knows that.

But Shane sighs slowly, deflating more and more until he sinks against Ryan again, curling up in his arms as he tends to do when they sleep in the same bed and Ryan will never get used to how _small_ this guy can feel in these moments.

It’s another couple minutes in which they just lie there together until Shane starts to speak.

 

“After the incident with my roommate, I had a number… The cleaner told me I could call him up any time if I wanted to make some extra money. He clearly was impressed.”

Ryan brings up a hand automatically and starts running it through Shane’s hair. He feels a sigh against his neck.

“Originally I didn’t plan to go for this line of work but… I got a taste of a world that was open to me now and I would be lying if I said it wasn’t exciting. I wanted to find out more, to learn, to figure out how this work goes, because it was fast paced and exciting and I was at a point where everything in my life was kind of… nothing.”

A hand fists in Ryan’s shirt and he tries not to focus on it. Somehow it feels like Shane is holding onto him so he doesn’t drown so he wraps his free arm around him and just keeps him there.

“After I had taken a couple of jobs I felt like I had finally found what I wanted to do in life. People liked my work, I liked finding new ways of cleaning and covering tracks. They showed me how to fire a gun and I was decent but when they gave me my first set of knives, I really felt at home for the first time.”

Ryan closes his eyes and thinks of the way Shane had utilized his long arms to fling thin, deadly blades at his attackers. It had been a sight. Ryan can’t remember ever seeing someone else fight like _that_.

“But then I ran into a girl. At the grocery store of all places. It was… so fucking strange to have a normal situation like that happening. The day before I had helped taking out a group of dealers that had stolen from one of our guys. I helped someone dissolve a body in a bathtub without problem like my life is a crime drama and the day after that I bump into a woman at the grocery store and help her pick up her shopping which she dropped and we… started talking. Joking. She was funny, quick, smart…”

Ryan can see where this is going. A part of him wants to flare up in jealousy, but he hears the tone in Shane’s voice and he doesn’t feel jealousy. He feels pity. It’s a rare feeling and it leaves him with his throat tied shut and his hand fists a little tighter in Shane’s hair.

 

Ryan doesn’t ask for a name. It’s not necessary. Instead he listens to Shane talking about getting her number out of the blue, then the dates, the jokes, their first kiss, even their first time having sex. He spills everything about this relationship to Ryan and he kind of wants to interrupt sometimes, because he still doesn’t feel entitled to it. But Shane puts his protest to rest.

“Let me… just, let me get this out, it’s important.”

Ryan shuts up and keeps listening. Shane balanced work and the relationship, not easy in this line of work, but he had somehow managed to tell her what he was doing and she hadn’t left. She hadn’t _liked it,_ but she understood and this is the moment where Ryan feels jealous. Not of Shane being with someone else, but of the idea that these relationships could have happened. He never got to experience one.

 

Shane had aimed to protect her, which made perfect sense to Ryan. He keeps his family out of it, he doesn’t drag random civilians into jobs if he can prevent it, it’s logical. But Shane tells him it was a mistake, because keeping her out of it made her a target once people found out about her.

 

“So I had helped to take out this gang that was selling weapons on the turf of one of our guys and apparently, one of them had survived and snitched on us. First the brains of our group is found in the sewers, then our point woman goes missing. By that time, I had already met our big boss the Wolf King so I got a message from him to lie low for a while. I wasn’t gonna do that without my gal, of course, so I texted her and told her to pack some shit and that we were going on vacation. All I had to do was pick up a package first, something that would help dropping off the radar for a bit, you know.”

 

Ryan feels something ice cold slide down his throat and settle in his stomach, despite Shane still lying on him, warm and heavy. He pets the other man’s hair and waits, because he already dropped one shoe and the other is going to come down in a bit. Shane takes a deep breath.

 

“Someone found out where I lived. While I was busy grabbing the delivery, someone broke into our place.”

Ryan bites his bottom lip. When Shane doesn’t continue, he decides that it’s time to ask.

 

“They were there to get you, but she was there?”

Shane nods against Ryan’s chest.

“Did she- Well, did they get her?”

Surprisingly, Shane laughs.

“On no. She was tough. Clever. She was in the bedroom, packing just as I had suggested because of course she knew that something was up. Then she heard someone mess with the front door, so before they could even reach the hall, she set her alarm clock in the bedroom and hid in the closet. Must have stood there for at least ten minutes with the people searching our place. Then the alarm goes off and one of the guys slips into the bedroom, hoping to grab her unaware while she’s having an afternoon nap or something. However, _she_ was the one who got _him_ unaware. With a baseball bat to the side of his head. When he dropped, the other guys noticed so she jumped out the window and crossed the fire escape to a neighbor. She got the window open and hid there while they called the police. She somehow managed to convince the sixty-three year old lady next door to push a wardrobe in front of the door and a bookshelf in front of the window. The gang dropped the guy she knocked out, of course. I think he’s still in jail.”

 

His face falls into a shut off mask.

 

“She wasn’t ready for a life like this. And I didn’t want to force her to join me. It would have been unfair. So we split. It was the only way. I couldn’t give up my job, because even if we could just quit, by then it was everything I ever wanted. Turns out I didn’t want her enough in the end even though I was in love with her and she didn’t deserve that. I sometimes hear from her, through old friends… relatives that didn’t get the memo, you know. Old social media.”

He puts on a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I heard she got married last year. Finally has a family and all… the one I couldn’t give her.”

 

It’s quiet for a while. Ryan can hear a shower of rain start outside and the sound of it hitting the cabin roof should be beautiful enough to be recorded but the silence around them is poisoned by the story that was shared and Shane feels so heavy in his arms it’s almost painful to hold him.

Even now, he can’t feel jealous. He thinks back to the Charleston girl and how easy it had been getting possessive over Shane after seeing them dance. But this story is different. It sounds of love, of a real thing that Ryan isn’t sure he can give anyone. Shane could have been the man this woman married and they could have a gaggle of little kids that grow up with trips to Disney and lovely grandparents that shower them with affection.

 

But he wasn’t. Shane had ended up in this life where you don’t make plans for next year. The one that forced Brent into a desk job because otherwise the girl he’s wooing will have to wear black soon. The feeling of pain and pity is so massive that Ryan could throw up. Before he gets there, however, Shane speaks again. Ryan had half expected him to have fallen asleep.

 

“I thought that was my chance for love in life. “The one”, if you will, and I know soulmates and perfect couples are unlikely but it felt so right to be with her, that I thought we would always be together. When it ended, I thought that was it. My chance for a normal life gone, I just kept working for the people who offered me a chance and I figured that this isn't a job where you fall in love and live happily ever after.”

“It’s not.” Ryan hadn’t meant to interrupt him, the words out before he could think about them.

Shane nods, moving up a little as if he’s getting ready to face Ryan again.

 

“So I decided, well, might as well live life to the fullest. Found a few things out about myself. Realized that she was one of the few girls I was ever into, but that when it comes to finding someone to hook up. Well, men were … easier. But also nicer. They would hurt me when I asked them to and it made everything intense and… pretty fucking great.”

Ryan hums. Over the course of Shane’s words, the taller man’s hand has crept further up on Ryan’s chest and Ryan stares at it for a moment before he takes it and laces their fingers together. Shane seems to exhale at that, still not looking up.

“I thought that being in love was something that builds over time, you know? You have a person you kind of like and maybe you smooch here and there and maybe you’re compatible in more ways than one and then you slowly fall in love and one day you get married. So I thought, if I keep it at quick fucks and simple flirts, my love for her would be the only one I ever did get to experience. And I was pretty much right with that.”

He finally looks up. Ryan swallows as he meets Shane’s eyes. He looks terrified.

“Until I met you. And then _everything_ I _thought_ I knew kind of… crumbled.”

 

Ryan knows he should interrupt. This is heading towards something that can’t be unsaid once it’s out in the open and he _knows_ what Shane is going to say, he doesn’t need him to say it and he should stop him from saying it because it’s dangerous and insane, but he can’t. He _needs_ to hear it. He _needs_ Shane to say it.

 

“I think I fell in love with you.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Ryan has stopped breathing.

“Not at first sight. That was interest. Probably not at second sight, I guess…” Shane interrupts himself with a breathy laugh. “I think it was _lust_ at second sight because, let’s face it, you’re fucking hot. But then...”

He looks away, unable to meet Ryan’s eyes.

“When you asked me to stay… and I woke up next to you and you still held me. When I returned from the bathroom and you – again – told me you wanted me there. When you joined me for a fucking _picnic_. I think that’s when I fell for you.”

Shane laughs again, but now it sounds pained and as he throws his head back, Ryan can see that he’s tearing up.

“Isn’t that fucking stupid? Love at third sight and still in a manner of, what. Twenty-four hours? Thirty-six? This isn’t a fucking rom-com and I should get a hold of myself, Jesus fucking wept...”

He brings up his free hand to wipe at his eyes but Ryan is quicker. His hand grabs Shane’s jaw to pull his face up, seizes him a little to hard and when Shane gasps, Ryan pulls him into a kiss, open mouthed and all tongue and teeth and fear. There is a bit of anger in there, too, but it’s not directed at Shane.

 

Ryan is pissed at himself because he should have known, he should have noticed because he did take in their connection, how well they fit together but pushed the possibility of tender thoughts so far out of his mind that they came back with a vendetta later. Which ultimately will cause him to do exact the thing he didn't want to do. Maybe he's already done it, even. He had hurt Shane in the worst possible way. Probably broken the man’s heart, as fragile as it was, having taken a hit like that not too long ago. By the time he had noticed it had already been too late, but that doesn’t mean Ryan’s not guilty.

 

Shane kisses him back and again he tastes so desperate and vulnerable that Ryan has to back off. He untangles their hands and cups the other man’s face, the hand clutching his chin moving to do the same. He tones the kiss down, pulls his tongue back and stops digging his teeth in Shane’s lip until they are kissing softly, only lips pressed against lips and Ryan tastes salt that isn’t blood and his thumb is met with a tear that rolls down Shane’s cheek.

 

_You fucked up. You did exactly what you wanted to stop yourself from.  
_

 

He ignores the thought and keeps kissing Shane, moving over his cheeks where he tastes more tears and then his temples and his forehead. Then he wraps the stupidly large guy in his arms and drops back on the sofa, allowing him to bury his face in Ryan’s chest. Ryan brings up a hand to brush through the man’s hair again and their legs entangle as they are back to curling up on the couch together.

 

Shane doesn’t cry, at least not out loud. Ryan can’t hear sniffles or sobs, but he still holds him like Shane does cry as he himself stares at the ceiling and wonders if all he can do in life is break shit.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Should I buy us a shag carpet?” He asks with a joking lilt to his tone about halfway to L.A. and Shane pauses for a second before he bursts into laughter.  
> “Where did that come from? Did you get a taste for the tasteless?”  
> “Maybe?” Ryan grins but keeps his eyes on the road. “I guess I just liked the sight of you on it with your legs pushed up like that.”  
> There is a slight groan to his right and he hears Shane shift in his seat.  
> “It’s your apartment. You can add to it whatever you want.”  
> For some reason, that wording kicks away a piece of debris Ryan has piled on his heart and something spills out that he tried to keep in.
> 
> “Move in with me, then.”

They eventually make their way to the bedroom. Shane is quiet while Ryan undresses him and pushes him into the sheets. He’s too tired, too worn down to let anything happen so he just allows Shane to bury himself against his chest as he tends to do and wraps his arms around him. Shane’s breathing soon evens out and Ryan figures he must be exhausted. He runs his fingers through Shane’s hair even though he tries to prevent that from being a habit and – thinks.

 

_Maybe it’s not really love. He’s vulnerable. Stuff reminded him of his girlfriend and he has a relapse into old **feelings**. We all get lonely sometimes. _

 

Ryan looks down at Shane’s face. In sleep, the man is always relaxed. His mouth stands open a little and his forehead is pressed against Ryan’s sternum. Shane is so tactile, not just in bed but in general and Ryan has never been much of a cuddler, but with this guy it just feels right to pull Shane’s head to his chest, as ridiculous as it is with the guy being like seven feet tall. As much as he tries to convince himself, he doesn’t think Shane is confused or lying. But that means that he has to face the fact that this man is in love with him and if he’s honest, he’d much rather face a firing squad.

He exhales heavily through his nose and it ruffles Shane’s hair a bit, causing the man in his arms to sniff and bury himself closer. Something in Ryan’s chest swells at the side and he grimly pushes it down.

 

_No. No way. One of you has to keep cool and level their head with this. You can’t be two lovesick fools in this. Love is blind they say, this business means you have to keep your eyes wide open._

 

Ryan pulls his pillow closer and stuffs it under his head while his other hand rubs circles on Shane’s back. He should respond to Shane’s confession. That’s how these things worked, right? Someone tells you they love you and you answer appropriately.  _I love you too. I don’t love you. I like you as a friend. I’m sorry but…_

The problem is that he doesn’t know what to answer. He seriously doubts that he has ever been in love before. Of course, he had crushes as a teenager like most people. He had been drawn in by people, fascinated by someone’s mind or obsessed with someone’s body. But love? Love was the indescribable thing in fairy tales and romantic movies. The stuff that turns people stupid and causes them to change and Ryan isn’t in the mood for any of that. He looks down at Shane again.

If he thinks about it, he is in the mood for being with Shane. Exclusively, if the guy is up for it. He could live like this, with spending the night at the other guy’s apartment, buying him breakfast, taking him out in the evening for dinner or drinks or maybe even dancing. Stumbling back to one of their places to fuck once or twice before falling asleep in bed together. It’s disgustingly domestic but somehow, he doesn’t really mind that.

 

Love, however? Ryan isn’t sure if he can be in love. Would that be unfair to Shane? To allow the guy to love him and not love him back? He likes Shane, that’s for sure. He thinks he’s sexy, funny, interesting. Part of Shane drives him up the wall but he even likes that. Shane drives his car and takes over the music choice and needles Ryan to try dancing and grabs his drink without asking and Shane still has all his ten fingers intact which is unusual for someone who does  _any_ of these things.

And that’s when Ryan realizes with an ice cold shock running down his back, that he’s already changed and gone stupid on the guy. And when he slowly and carefully winds his arms around Shane and holds him a little closer, buries his nose in his hair and stares wide-eyed into the darkness around them. 

 

_How the fuck do you survive being in love? Shane seems to barely manage and he knows more about it than you._

 

He certainly doesn’t know. Instead, he stays like that until exhaustion takes him  for a few hours.

-

Ryan wakes up at around eight in the morning with Shane still fast asleep. A small wave of fondness washes over him before he angrily bats it down and untangles himself to get up and take a shower. While he angrily scrubs his hair, he tries to focus his thoughts a little. This was bullshit. Ryan NightNight Bergara doesn’t randomly go this soft on a guy he’s met like a week ago. However,  _if he were_ to go soft and fall in love with someone, that is entirely his business and has nothing to do with him still being feared in the business. His name is being whispered by people for fuck’s sake! He’s a menace. Someone says that NightNight is coming to put someone to sleep and people piss their fucking pants. Ryan huffs under the hot spray of water and sees steam billow around his face. Right. There’s a plan. If he and Shane are alone, he can be stupidly soft if he wants and the rest of time he’s going to be who he always was. If Shane can’t take that - even better, then he can kick the whole love thing to the curb and not think about it anymore.

Of course, he knows that this wouldn’t work and he doesn’t need to feel the needle sting in his heart at the thought to understand that. But he doesn’t address it. He gets out of the shower, dries off and gets dressed. Then he walks back into the bedroom.

 

Shane has sprawled out a bit, with Ryan gone. He isn’t as curled up as he was before, instead his limbs are kind of everywhere on the mattress and it looks really stupid.  _So_ stupid. Legs should be ashamed to be that stupid because it’s not in the least intimidating as he’s supposed to be out on the street. Ryan smiles a little and puts his hand on Shane’s ankle, squeezing it a bit until the guy grumbles and lifts his head. Shane looks around a bit before his eyes land on Ryan and after a moment, his face brightens and then morphs into surprise.

 

“What’s with the face, Madej?” Ryan grins a teasing smirk and adjusts his tie. He knew the suit would come in handy. “Get dressed in your best outfit, I’m in the mood for breakfast at a fancy place and they don’t let you in if you’re dressed like _that._ ”

Shane still lies there, open mouthed before a slight smile creeps on his face.

“Sure. Give me twenty minutes.” He chuckles as he crawls out of bed and Ryan looks after him – mostly because the guy isn’t dressed yet and he _does_ have a good ass on him – until the bathroom door closes. Ryan makes the bed and then hangs around the living room, fiddling with his phone until Shane comes in. He’s dressed in slacks, shirt and vest and he wears an honest to god bow tie. Ryan is sure that if his job isn’t going to kill him, this man is.

 

“You look like a butler.” He says with an oddly fond tone as he gets up and reaches for Shane’s vest. The taller man just grins down at him and Ryan rolls his eyes and tightens his grasp on the vest to drag him down in a kiss. When they part Shane is looking at him with a soft smile and Ryan remembers he still kind of owes him an answer.

_Not now._

“Come on, stretch, time to get some food in us or else we collapse in the woods if we do more hiking today.”

Shane laughs and puts his hand on the small of Ryan’s back as they walk out. Ryan allows it. It feels strangely warm.

-

It takes them some time, but Ryan does find an expensive looking hotel where they have a lavish breakfast. Shane sometimes looks at him with a new expression that Ryan can’t quite figure out yet. He sees surprise, maybe disbelief. Some of it is the raw affection he saw in Shane’s face the night before and he tries not to think about it too much. The guy seems relaxed, at least more relaxed than before and Ryan counts it as a win for now. While he shovels smoked salmon on french bread, Shane’s foot stretches out under the table and caresses his leg. Ryan doesn’t feel like pushing him away.

-

They continue their holiday and Ryan decides to stop freaking out about being “normal” for once. He can  _act_ like a normal person any day, but he is starting to  _feel_ normal while Shane and he are hiking through the woods, sometimes holding hands sometimes not. They find a small lake away from prying eyes and Ryan can barely keep up when Shane strips down within seconds and runs into the water. He chases the tall idiot around a bit before he manages to catch him, only to have Shane turn the tables on him, because he’s taller and can stand in the area he lured Ryan to but Ryan can’t quite. A good natured scuffle ensues in which Shane tries to drown Ryan and Ryan tries to strangle Shane – except neither of them actually does.

It’s silly, Ryan thinks, because it’s neither a fight nor a sparring match. The only goal is to have fun with it and usually, his fun from fighting comes in very different ways. But he can’t help it, he’s laughing as he manages to cause Shane lose his footing and dives after him to push him deeper. Instead of struggling upwards, Shane pulls him in and kisses him underwater and it takes Ryan by such surprise that he chokes and nearly actually drowns. He’s dragged closer to the shore by Shane as he’s coughing and the bastard is both laughing and slapping his back to help. Once Ryan finds his breath again, Shane looks at him with gleaming eyes.

 

“I didn’t take you to get so easily flustered, NightNight.” His voice has a teasing lilt to it. “I thought a simple kiss wouldn’t be so surprising to you.”

Ryan feels himself starting to grin.

“Oh you’re a right bastard, aren’t you?”

 

It ends with him finding a boulder in the lake that’s about the right height to shove Shane’s back against it so he can shut him up for a while. Water isn’t exactly a good lubricant, so he just ruts against him, with Shane’s ridiculously long legs wrapped around his hips and a mouth latched to his throat.  His plan succeeds:  It shuts the guy up for a while and Ryan can’t help the self satisfied smile when they’re getting dressed again and Shane’s ears are still a little flushed.

 

That evening  they are at the pub again and a couple of the locals nod in recognition. Shane tells Ryan some stories about growing up in Illinois and Ryan tells about the woods behind his childhood home and the adventures he had there with his brother. It’s information he wouldn’t normally give people in the business, but out here they are just Ryan and Shane and none of the locals look weirded out when Shane scoots closer to press a kiss behind Ryan’s ear. They play pool again and after round two, they are joined by two people who ask if they would like to play in teams. Ryan allows himself to get competitive, at least a little bit and he sees the delighted gleam in Shane’s eyes when the game gets more intense. Finally, Shane sinks the eight with a masterful shot and Ryan first gives him the high five the guy is holding his hand out for but then he grabs him by the back of the neck and pulls him into a quick but passionate kiss. Shane looks a bit flustered as he’s let go and one of the guys they’ve been playing against laughs.

 

“You two on honeymoon?” He asks as the waitress hands him another beer. Ryan pauses.

“No.” He says carefully. “We’re just…” He shrugs a little and looks at Shane. Shane smiles softly and takes over.

“We’re on vacation. Where we live it’s a bit… tricky to be openly affectionate.”

“Ah.” The guy nods and they leave it at that.

 

This goes on for one more day. Hiking, dinner at the pub, a couple games of pool and then back to relax at the cottage. Ryan realizes he enjoys being curled up with Shane on the shag carpet even if they don’t use it for its “intended purpose”. He is starting to dread going back, even though he loves L.A. and is starting to miss work a lot. Sometimes his fingers twitch and he knows all he wants is break someone. Out here, nobody gives him a reason to which is why he  _has_ to go back but a part of him wants to stay here, live with Shane far away from everything in a little cottage and have a life as a calm, normal guy who maybe indulges a bit too much in his boyfriend’s sexual masochism. People have kinks, it’s not that abnormal. But their life back in L.A. is abnormal and for the first time in his life, it starts to bother Ryan. He wants both and that doesn’t work, so he decides to grow up and accept that the occasional vacation can be the time where they are just happy boyfriends and the rest of the time he has to keep his head level and act the part he picked in life.

Shane doesn’t seem to have exactly the same worries. He is a little wistful when they leave the cottage, but half an hour into the ride home he has already picked some of Ryan’s favorite albums to sing along to and Ryan feels his grip around the steering wheel relax. Maybe things wouldn’t be that different with Shane still around. Still, some parts would be different and he feels a little melancholic thinking back to their mountain hut and the pub and the pool tables.

 

“Should I buy us a shag carpet?” He asks with a joking lilt to his tone about halfway to L.A. and Shane pauses for a second before he bursts into laughter.

“Where did that come from? Did you get a taste for the tasteless?”

“Maybe?” Ryan grins but keeps his eyes on the road. “I guess I just liked the sight of you on it with your legs pushed up like that.”

There is a slight groan to his right and he hears Shane shift in his seat.

“It’s your apartment. You can add to it whatever you want.”

For some reason, that wording kicks away a piece of debris Ryan has piled on his heart and something spills out that he tried to keep in.

 

“Move in with me, then.”

 

It’s dead quiet in the car, because the playlist Shane had picked stopped a couple of minutes ago and the  big  guy had been in the  process of picking a new one. He doesn’t seem to be browsing his musical library anymore and a quick glance to the side confirms Ryan’s suspicion. Shane is staring at him, open-mouthed and wide-eyed. Ryan feels the need to explain.

“You don’t really use your apartment for much. It’s barely lived in and we sleep together anyway. You might as well live in the same space as I do. If one of us has to bow out for a while, it’s likely the other has to, too, right? We’re partners after all.“

He can’t look at Shane but he can mask it with having to look at the road. Ryan might be driving a bit too fast but he doesn’t address it and Shane doesn’t either. It’s quiet for so long that he kind of expects them to just stay quiet about it and ignore that the question ever happened, but then Shane finally speaks up.

 

“Do you mean it?”

 

Ryan feels a crease grow between his eyebrows. Shane doesn’t always trust him and Ryan knows why, understands it completely, but it’s still frustrating sometimes.

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

“I’d love that.”

Ryan swallows and his hands clench around the steering wheel. Somehow he had expected Shane to take more time or even to outright refuse.

“Great,” he says instead. “We can get on that once we get back.”

“You don’t think it’s too soon?” Shane sounds very quiet and careful.

Ryan, for the first time since this started feels pretty sure about what to answer. He laughs.

“Oh, you think? I don’t know, we fucked within a day, we went on vacation together and you told me you loved me. If I was still in contact with my parents I’d feel like I would have to introduce you before the month is over.”

He is still laughing but Shane’s answer is only a soft hum, so Ryan decides to dig the hole he’s in even deeper:

“I want you around, Shane. Believe it or not, but I do. And I figured that in this business you can never know. Our whole office could be mowed down next month, and then? We would have lost precious time we can spend in my bed with driving back and forth between our places instead. So you might as well live with me. But if you don’t want to, that’s fine with me. Just tell me what you want.”

“I want you.” Shane is still quiet, but his words are very clear. “Of course I want you.”

“Good.” Ryan clears his throat. “Because I want you, too.”

 

It’s a start. Not quite a proper answer, not like the one he still owes Shane, but it’s something and it seems to be the right thing, because Shane reaches a hand over and takes one of Ryan’s and just holds it for a while.

-

“Did you think you can go on vacation _with Madej_ and I won’t hear about it?” 

 

Jen grins at him  from where she’s standing behind her desk with her arms crossed, but Ryan feels a sense of dread in his stomach.

 

“No. I’m just… wondering if you told anybody.”

Relationships with co-workers aren’t exactly _forbidden_. This isn’t a job with HR and contracts. There are barely even _rules_ that go beyond the basics, but Ryan still feels he could get in trouble. Or cause Shane trouble.

“It’s nobody’s business who you fuck and who you spend your money with. The only one I told is the Big Boss, because he deserves to know and he’s always up for a bit of gossip when it’s about love.”

Ryan wants to interrupt or protest but it would be stupid, so he doesn’t.

“He’s cool with it.” Jen shrugs and goes through her phone as if the conversation is over, but Ryan stares at her, open mouthed.

“He is?”

 

Jen snorts and stops idling with her phone to look something up. For half a minute, Ryan sits there and waits until she slides it over the table. He looks at the conversation she opened for him.

 

 **You:** Bergara and Madej are shaking up. Possibly dating.

 **W** **K** **:** Interesting.

 **WK:** Tell them “Don Giovanni’s” has an excellent roast platter for two.

 

Ryan looks up.

“That’s it? That’s all he has to say?”

Jen shrugs.

“He’s an old romantic, he loves good food and doesn’t care who shacks up with whom as long as everything goes smoothly in the end.” She takes her phone back and gives Ryan a hard stare-down. Ryan swallows. He doesn’t have any sisters but he has the feeling that if he had, they would have been a lot like Jen.

“Normally I would tell you not to shit where you eat, Ryan.” The use of his first name instead of "NightNight" or "Bergara" makes this even more serious and Ryan kind of hates it.

“But instead I’m just gonna tell you that I like Madej and I think he’s not quite as hard-bitten as some of the others are and despite what some might think, I like that, too.”

Ryan slowly sits up from where he had been slouching in his chair and stares up at her serious expression.

“Are you giving me the “Break his heart I break your neck” talk? Really?”

“I’m giving you the “Remember you’re human despite what others might made you believe” talk, Ryan. Don’t forget I met you when you came here. All passion and no cool. You grew up, so don’t throw that away.”

She turns and sits in her chair. A clear sign that he’s dismissed and Ryan huffs some pent up frustration out of his lungs as he gets up.

 

It’s only after the door falls shut behind him that he allows himself to think that Jen could be right.

-

He doesn’t tell Shane about his talk with Jen. He only mentions that the boss knows about them and has no objections. For some reason Shane blushes at that and his eyes brighten. Before Ryan can ask, he’s kissed within an inch of his life and Shane seems even more into having hands all over his body, so he doesn’t ask about it and just goes along with it. At this point, he has to work out more. Shane tends to get him winded.

Ryan doesn’t really mind.

-

They go back to work and Shane is stuck at his desk for a day or two. Ryan uses the extra time to start moving the few personal possessions Shane has into his flat. He empties a drawer of his and clears a space on a shelf in case Shane brings home anything he wants to put there. Shane comes home from work with take out, sees what Ryan has done and shoves him against the wall, kissing him so hard Ryan tastes blood. It feels amazing.

Time passes faster than Ryan notices. Work and Shane fill his life in a way that's new and he barely has any time to idle and watch the days roll by.

-

Ryan is called to a  confrontation and Shane tags along. A local gang is getting too cocky  in the wrong territory and Eugene is handling the negotiations, his team behind him. The gang isn’t ready to cooperate, which is dumb because they think the people leading the negotiation aren’t also capable of taking them out. It’s not Ryan’s favorite job so far, because the press is supposed to believe it was a shootout between rival gangs, which means he isn’t allowed to get his hands dirty. However, he gets an impression of what  Shane can do with a gun and it’s exciting enough to make up for the disappointment.

-

About a month into living together, Shane buys the print of a painting online. It’s some art of  some forest in some place Ryan has never heard off and apparently the original painter is very well  paid . He doesn’t get it, but it’s something Shane brought into the living space and once it’s up on the wall, it feels like it belongs there. Ryan asks if it’s something they should salvage in the case they ever have to leave quickly to save their skin and  Shane looks at him for a moment, so fond and surprised that Ryan forgets that his lungs need oxygen. The spell is broken a second later when Shane drops and shoves Ryan’s pants down and he remembers  how  to breathe  as he fists a hand in Shane’s hair and drops his head back against the wall he has just spent twenty minutes placing and hammering a nail in.

-

One night, they run into a set up and the police is there, the target is gone and everything is _wrong_. They have two colleagues with them and when Zack gets caught on a fence and almost shot down by a way-too-eager cop, Ryan turns to Shane who is already thirty feet ahead and yells at  him to get the fuck out of dodge and Shane only hesitates for half a second before he does, because the guy might be in love but he’s also great at his job and not fucking _stupid_. Ryan  learns that night that “Legs” is not just a name based on looks. Shane can leg it if he has to and before the cops are even done dragging Zack off of his spot, Shane is gone. Ryan spends one night in a cell until the Wolf King posts bail and Shane picks him up first thing in the morning and takes him home. He drags Ryan into the shower, commenting on him smelling of pigs and prison rankness and Ryan doesn’t miss how Shane drags his fingertips over every inch of Ryan’s skin while he helps him wash up, how he kisses him as he guides Ryan backwards to the bed and how slow and deliberate his movements are as he sinks down on Ryan’s cock and rides him, hands pressed to his chest right above Ryan’s heart and Ryan bites his bottom lip as he comes to make sure he doesn’t say something stupid.

A t the trial there are seven eyewitnesses who have seen Ryan Bergara at a little Mexican restaurant with his boyfriend. Yes of course they remember  clearly , the band had played a love song for them because it had been their six month anniversary.

He leaves the court house a free man. When he passes the boss, the guy shoots him a smooth wink over his sunglasses.

-

A week after, Shane allows him to take him to dinner and they are wearing suits and drinking an expensive wine. Ryan flirts in a way that is appropriate to their surroundings and he’s surprised but also  delighted to find out that Shane seems to like it. There is a sweet, pink flush to the man’s cheeks as he twists the stem of his wine glass in his fingers, focusing on anything but Ryan’ s face and the waiter who leaves them a complimentary dessert. Afterwards, Ryan decides it’s time to have the surprise on his side. He doesn’t ask the driver to take them back, but rather gives him the address of the club Shane took him to all those weeks ago. Shane is stunned and stares at Ryan for a full ten seconds before he grabs him and presses a hard, loud kiss to his cheek. Ryan rolls his eyes so he doesn’t address the flutter in his chest and reaches over to take Shane’s hand.

Once they reach the dance club, Shane quickly falls into the light, unrestricted version of himself that Ryan has seen only bits and pieces of so far. NightNight Bergara is capable of many things, but dancing is not one of his talents. His partner doesn’t seem to mind, he drags him onto the floor anyways and whirls around him with such joy that Ryan could kick himself for not having done this sooner. He settles on the dance moves he knows and takes Shane’s hand when it seems appropriate. Despite all the awkwardness he allows to wash over him, he has  _fun_ . And if the kisses Shane peppers all over his face that night tell him anything, it’s that his  _boyfriend_ had fun as well.

-

Movies are always fun and when a couple new ones come out that Ryan wants to see, he takes Shane along. They buy popcorn and sit in the back so Shane’s height doesn’t block anyone’s view and the movie is great. Ryan is not one to make out in the theater if the film is good and Shane apparently isn’t either. But he takes Ryan’s hand and links their fingers and it’s strange, because that is what distracts him. Some part of him is sure that if Shane decided to blow him right here he would be less distracted, but the careful brush of a thumb against the back of Ryan’s hand makes him hyperfocus on Shane and it’s strange.

When they get back to _their_ _home_ , Ryan decides it’s time for new frontiers so he lets Shane fuck him. Or rather: He puts Shane on his back and rides him, alternating the intensity and edging the guy until he is almost weeping and begging Ryan to please please _please…_

 _It’s not so bad,_ he thinks, with Shane in his arms, while the tall man curls up and presses soft, loving kisses over Ryan’s chest. _It’s good. Great even. I can see myself do this for the rest of my life._

And if Shane wants him, too, he’s happy with that.

-

They are sent out on a job to take out some poor bastard who thought he could get away with stealing from the Big Boss. The notes just say Mr. Allen and Ryan hasn’t heard of him before. He’s a small fish that thought he was ready to tussle with the wolf. Shane joins him because the body has to go missing afterwards and also because Ryan is asked to refrain from making it bloody. He is excited when they reach the parking lot where Allen is waiting for a contact who is said to help him to get out of L.A., which, of course, is not going to happen. Allen doesn’t know they are coming but he might have caught a glimpse of Ryan’s face because he is quick to pull a gun when the two of them walk up to him. It’s almost sad, Ryan thinks, when the first, too quick shot misses him by quite a bit and he drops into a run and tackles the guy to the ground. The gun goes flying and Ryan makes a mental note where Shane can pick it up later before he turns his head to look at the target. He’s sprawled out with his head dropped back against the asphalt and Ryan feels the old familiar feeling wash through his bones and twitch in his fingers.

 

NightNight gets down to put his hands around Allen’s throat, both thumbs finding the pulse points and he throws his head up to meet Shane’s eyes. He can’t wait for the hungry look on the guy’s face while he squeezes the life out of this little shit.

 

But then his stomach drops.

 

_Love is blind they say, this business means you have to keep your eyes wide open._

 

Shane “Legs” Madej lies on the ground about thirty feet away from him, flat on his back with his hands pressed tightly against his side. The white shirt is slowly turning dark with blood and Ryan realizes with a start that Allen had not _meant_ to hit him earlier.

Allen had not meant to hit _him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is slowly growing towards a climax but there is still quite a bit to tell. I hope you guys enjoy it despite me being a terrible evil person.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan shoots up, wants to stand and grab Lim by the shoulders, five questions at once ready on the tip of his tongue but he sees the bunched up scrubs in the plastic bag Steven is holding and there is a lot of blood on them, holy shit. Ryan wants to ask but there is no air in his lungs and the room is getting suspiciously dark. He tries to keep his thoughts together but the sight of Shane on the pavement takes over his vision and he knows he washed his hands and even used disinfectant to wipe them off but he suddenly feels the sticky mess on his fingers again and the smell of blood. This time, the scent isn’t invigorating or exciting, it turns his stomach and he never wants to smell blood again in his life he thinks before he feels like he’s falling.
> 
> He finds himself sitting on the floor of the kitchen, Steven Lim crouching next to him, holding his wrist while looking at his watch. Ryan feels like he got a sledgehammer to the chest. Breathing still feels terrible, but at least he can do it now.
> 
> “What happened?” He muttered, expecting Lim to tell him he got poisoned.
> 
> “You had a panic attack.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long! I had a couple of other projects including the Shyan scavenger hunt and another series I was finishing up! But this chapter is finally done. Thanks for the patience!

Ryan’s hands slip off of Allen’s throat as he rises again.

 

Every cell in his body screeches at him to squish this maggot, to break his neck, to watch for that delicious moment where his eyes go dull. He could just grab the revolver and bash at the man’s head until there is nothing more but a pulp. His body wants it, wants to see death and destruction and pain but Ryan is already at Shane’s side and reaches for his hands to unclasp the death grip on his side.

 

Despite knowing how much pain he must cause, he rolls Shane over to look at his back and the confirmation of his fear hits him ice cold and painfully. The hole in the back of Shane’s shirt could be his death sentence. The shot went right through him and now he’s bleeding out and he’s bleeding out fast. Ryan turns Shane on his uninjured side to keep gravity from draining him and he hears himself babble some shit that he probably would be mortified hearing himself say. The message is clear. Legs has to stay awake. Shane has to stay alive. _He’s not allowed to fucking leave him_ _goddammit._

 

His fingers are slick with blood but he does manage to grab his phone and hit Jen’s speed-dial. She picks up after the first ring (bless her) and there is a curt, inquisitive _hello?_ from the other side.

 

“Jen. Legs is injured. Shot through the side. I need a doctor to the rendezvous place ASAP.”

She doesn’t ask questions. Ryan hears her hit some keys and yell something at someone in the background.

“I’ll be there in five.”

Ryan notices that his hands are shaking. His throat is closing up.

“Please, Jen.” His voice is only a croak and he doesn’t even recognize it, has never heard himself beg before but he somehow can’t feel ashamed. Jen is so quiet for a second that Ryan thinks she hung up. Then:

“Make it two.”

“ _Thank you.”_

 

He drops the phone at first but then scrambles for it to pocket it again. Ryan can’t risk a rookie mistake like that, even if the cleaners get here before the police. He throws a quick glance at Allen, just because he’s focused (and soft) on Shane doesn’t mean he’s fucking stupid, but the guy doesn’t move and there is no gun in reach for him, so Ryan looks back at his partner.

 

Shane is even paler than normal, his eyes are wide open and his face is sweaty from the struggle against the pain. His jaw is set so tightly that Ryan fears he’s going to break his molars, so he carefully drags his fingertips over Shane’s cheek and tries to coax him into breathing normally. Finally, his hand settles in Shane’s hair and the man’s eyes droop a little. Ryan tugs his belt free and wraps it around Shane’s middle, using his balled up jacket to cover the wounds. It’s a shitty tourniquet but it’s something and Shane meets his eyes when Ryan pulls it taught.

 

“I fucked up.” He can hear the tall guy on the ground say. “I didn’t realize he was aiming at me.”

Ryan tries to swallow but can’t. He hadn’t realized either and he’s not sure if he can ever forgive himself for that.

“Shut up, Legs. Focus on not passing out. Jen will be here any second.”

 

As if on cue, one of Jen’s cars skids around the corner and comes to a sudden stop right next to them. Ryan gives himself a second to remember how fucking good she is at driving before he gets up. Jen is all business, no yelling, no questions, no calling the guys idiots. She glances over at Allen and Ryan briefly spots that Zach jumps out of the back of the car to make his way over to the target. Ryan exchanges a look with Jen but she shakes her head.

 

“The others are coming. _We_ are going to a doctor.”

 

-

 

Ryan sits in the back seat with Shane lying next to him, his head in Ryan’s lap. The guy’s breathing is getting shallow and his shirt is starting to look like the Polish flag, white on top and blood red at the bottom. It causes Ryan’s heartbeat to pick up and he wants to scream, wants to break something, wants to jump out of the car and run back at Allen and personally tear the guy limb from limb. But instead he sits there, pets Shane’s hair and occasionally gives him a sharp slap against the cheek when the guy threatens to doze off.

 

“Stay with me, Stretch.” He hisses and for a second, he catches Jen’s eyes in the rearview mirror. Her face is set in professional focus but he knows that he should probably talk to her. Jen of all the people he knew before meeting Shane was the one he trusted most. Really just like the sister he never had and even though she’s kind of his boss, Ryan knows that the respect and trust is mutual. Right now, however, there’s no time to have a heart to heart because a couple of moments later Jen parks in the backyard of a run down apartment building. Ryan looks at it doubtfully, but it’s not like they have a choice.

 

“Time to get back on your feet, Legs.” Jen calls out as she opens to door and to Shane’s credit, he pushes himself up from Ryan’s lap and gets out of the car with minimal groans of pain. Ryan jumps out and jogs around it to offer his shoulder and it’s right in time, because Shane almost collapses on top of him. He must have lost a lot of blood, but at least he’s still conscious and Ryan wraps an arm around his middle to keep him upright. He grits his teeth as he feels how weak Shane is, but he simply hauls him along, shushing him whenever Shane groans in pain as if it could do anything. Jen is ahead of them, running up the few steps to the back door and opening it with a key she has on her key ring. Ryan has too many thoughts to deal with, part of it is that Jen can be a bit clumsy when left to her own devices, nobody breaks more coffee cups in the office than her, but now she is focused and sharp and directs them through the hallway the door led to, then to the left and she runs the last few steps towards an apartment door and knocks. It’s a complicated pattern, far away from shave-and-a-haircut-two-bits and normally Ryan would try to memorize it, but Shane slowly teeters forward in his hold and Ryan smacks against his chest, maybe a little harsher than necessary, equally holding him up and jerking him out of the sleep he threatens to fall into.

 

The few seconds they stand and wait feel like hours and Ryan is about to kick the door open when it’s ripped open. There is a second or two where Ryan allows himself to be shocked. He hasn’t seen Steven Lim in over a year, believed that the guy probably ended up somewhere with a bullet in his head, but here he stands, eyes narrowed at the three of them and then giving a curt nod to Jen before he moves out of the way and lets them inside. The hallway of the apartment is not very wide and Ryan has to drag Shane sideways now while Jen runs ahead. He could catch up with Lim, a simple “Hey, how have you been, good to see you’re alive, how about a round of basketball on Sunday?” but Shane is bleeding out in his arms and he is starting to get _terrified_ so he simply moves forward.

 

“This way.” Jen directs him into a door off the hallway and Ryan stumbles into what looks like a private practice, something between a doctor’s office and an operating room. With Jen’s help, he lies Shane down on the metal table in the middle, carefully turning him to his uninjured side. A door opens in the back of the room and Ryan’s hand automatically falls on his gun, but he knows the man who enters.

The guy is wearing scrubs and holds his hands up keeping them at a fair distance from anything he could touch, a surgery mask around his neck and Ryan stares. He has only seen Andrew Ilnyckyj in passing, but he knows that he and Lim had been partners some time ago and that Ilnyckyj was the one to go to if someone caught you across the neck with a blade.

He should probably greet the man but he can only hold Shane on the table and pet his hair absent-mindedly while Lim puts some rubber gloves on Ilnyckyj while talking to Jen. They move to undo the belt and Ryan instantly brings his hands up to press it to Shane’s wound.

 

“Jen, get him out of here,” Steven says and Ryan _knows_ he doesn’t mean it in an insulting way, _knows_ that he’s probably in the way but he still seizes up as Jen grabs his arm and pulls him to the door.

“No! Fuck off, Jen! I’m not just leaving him with two butchers-” Jen stomps on his foot and when Ryan curses and bends over in pain she smacks him across the face. For a second he hears bells ring in his ear and he could easily whirl around and retaliate. He has a couple inches on Jen and more muscle, if it came to a fistfight he would win, but all the anger and vigor he has drains out of him and he lets her take his arm and pull him outside of the room before she slams the door. Ryan gets one last glance at Shane before, his eyes shut and his face pale and for a moment, he looks like he’s dead.

A second before the door closes, however, Shane’s eyes open a bit and a hint of a smile is thrown in Ryan’s direction. Then he stands next to Jen in the hallway and realizes that his face is wet and that tears are dripping from his chin where two streaks of wetness meet.

 

“Jen-” He starts. Ryan could say many things. He could yell at her for hurting him, he could calmly and seriously state that he fucked up and did something wrong, he could go back to grab Allen and murder him slowly and painfully. Instead he lets Jen lead him to another room. He’s pushed in a chair and a glass of water ends in his hands.

When the blurriness slowly lets up and the glass of water is somehow empty, he notices that Jen is sitting in a chair across from him, looking at him.

“I’m sorry.” He says quietly. His voice is rough and his cheek stings. His eyes feel like boiled eggs.

“It’s fine, Ryan.” Her voice is calm. “You did everything right.”

Ryan laughs dryly.

“When, pray tell? I fucked up, I let Allen see me and he was warned and I let him shoot Legs because I was focused on myself and then I didn’t even notice him going down because I wanted to break Allen’s neck.”

Jen lets him ramble but then she leans back and puts one leg over the other.

“I’m talking about how you called me right away and administered first aid and didn’t waste precious time murdering Allen. You saved Madej’s life.”

“He’s not saved yet.” Ryan whispers and Jen puts a hand on his shoulder.

“It will be alright, Ryan. You should try and rest.”

 

Ryan can’t rest, but he also can’t stand and walk up and down. He’s angry and hurt and terrified. He hasn’t been this terrified in more than ten years and he doesn’t know what to do.

So he does something else he hasn’t done since he was seventeen: He prays. He prays even though it feels wrong and he doesn’t recall a single prayer, not even the fucking Lord’s prayer which he had to recite over and over and over again until he dreamed of the words. But he closes his eyes and folds his hands and thinks of the little church his parents would drag him and his brother on Sundays and he tries to form the words in his mind. It’s all nonsense, mostly begging, some of it pleading, even threatening, stupidly enough, since though he doesn’t know how in the world he should make good on threats like that. He can’t promise anything, doesn’t even want to think of who or what he’s speaking to, but he still thinks about Shane and how despite everything he does, he is not an evil person, there are worse people out there and he doesn’t deserve to bleed out in some backroom in an illegal private practice. He drags the one-sided conversation out, not ready to say – or think - “Amen”, but eventually he mutters it under his breath and lowers his hands, feeling not in the least better and if anything, even more guilty than before.

 

Jen had told him his “cool head” had saved Shane but Ryan doesn’t feel cool or like a savior. He feels a headache coming on, feels sick like he has to hurl and wants nothing more than the damn door to open.

 

Eventually, he feels something prod his shoulder and realizes that he fell asleep at the table, his arms pillowing his head and he shoots up as he sees Lim leaning over him.

Ryan shoots up, wants to stand and grab Lim by the shoulders, five questions at once ready on the tip of his tongue but he sees the bunched up scrubs in the plastic bag Steven is holding and there is a lot of blood on them, holy shit. Ryan wants to ask but there is no air in his lungs and the room is getting suspiciously dark. He tries to keep his thoughts together but the sight of Shane on the pavement takes over his vision and he knows he washed his hands and even used disinfectant to wipe them off but he suddenly feels the sticky mess on his fingers again and the smell of blood. This time, the scent isn’t invigorating or exciting, it turns his stomach and he never wants to smell blood again in his life he thinks before he feels like he’s falling.

 

He finds himself sitting on the floor of the kitchen, Steven Lim crouching next to him, holding his wrist while looking at his watch. Ryan feels like he got a sledgehammer to the chest. Breathing still feels terrible, but at least he can do it now.

“What happened?” He muttered, expecting Lim to tell him he got poisoned.

“You had a panic attack.”

 

It’s very matter of factly and still it sounds like nonsense. NightNight Bergara didn’t get a panic attack. Why the fuck would he panic? Nobody in this place even had a weapon or explosives.

Still, his feet feel cold and his head is swimming and when Steven presses another glass of water in his hand, he drinks it without much of a fuss. His fingers shake and he splashes half of the water over his shirt, but he feels a little less like he’s dying afterwards. For a moment he suspects that Lim poisoned him, but then his vision clears a bit and the pounding in his head lets up. His legs tingle a bit and Ryan gives himself another minute before slowly getting up, allowing Steven to hold his elbow and support him.

 

Ryan clears his throat. It hurts.

“Where is he- Is he alive- What-”

“Calm down, NightNight,” Lim says and pushes Ryan back into his seat. “He’s alive and he’s gonna make it.”

Something breaks and Ryan feels all air escape him as if he had been stabbed between the ribs. He sinks down, slipping off of the chair back on the floor and he buries his face in his hands as Lim steadies his shoulder. He needs a couple of seconds to remember how to be a functional human again, but eventually he pushes himself up and back on his feet.

“I’m going to see him.” He says and stares at Lim, daring him to tell him otherwise. But Steven simply shrugs and takes Ryan by the arm, leading him along. Ryan is getting a little sick of being dragged around like this, but he swallows his pride. Right now, his status isn’t important.

 

Steven brings him to a different door than the small practice and opens it. From what Ryan can see, it’s a guest room. Simple, clean and relatively impersonal. On one side, there is a single bed and he can already see Shane’s long limbs under the blanket. Ilnyckyj stands next to him, taking his pulse and Ryan has to physically restrain himself so he doesn’t race over and throw himself over Shane. He sees his partners pale face and wants nothing more than to destroy the guy who did this. But that would mean that he would have to leave Shane’s side and he can’t do that right now. Ilnyckyj looks over at them and nods at Steven.

 

Lim lets him go and Ryan should feel insulted by these two calling the shots, but he’s on their turf and while he’s short tempered, he knows some respect. So he slows his step to an agonizingly languid pace as he comes over. Shane has an IV needle in his arm with a blood bag attached that hangs off a stand and an empty IV bag next to it. Ryan swallows. If Shane needs blood then it had been even closer than he thought. He also thinks of what this is going to cost and what they have to pay Ilnyckyj and Lim. Even if Jen helps them out, it could mean he will work for free for a while.

 

Somehow he doesn’t care.

 

He throws a questioning look at the doctor when he sits down on the edge of Shane’s bed, but Ilnyckyj doesn’t stop him. He merely watches when Ryan turns to Shane and carefully runs a hand through the guy’s hair. It’s a little grimy and there are blood clots in it, here and there. It doesn’t matter. When he touches Shane’s cheek it’s cool, but not cold and he can feel the ghost of his breath on his skin. He’s alive. It’s what counts.

 

“I don’t know if I can pay you right now,” he says, not quite looking at the two men in the room. “But I’ll pay whatever you want.”

Ilnyckyj looks at the papers he’s holding, leafing through them for a moment.

“Well, if we can believe your doctor, you’re an O type. Universal donor’s are pretty useful, so if you’re up for it, you can pay in blood.” He grins a little, as if he has made a terrific joke.

Ryan stares at him. He’s not especially fond of needles and would very much like to tell the guy to go fuck himself. But he saved Shane’s life and Shane needed blood, too, so…

 

“Fine.” He shrugs off his jacket. “But I don’t know how clean it is.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

 

-

 

About an hour later, Ryan is resting. The stress and the loss of a pint of blood has taken out more of him than he had expected. Shane is still unconscious, but neither Lim nor Ilnyckyj seem to have a problem with him staying in their guest room over night. Ryan doesn’t even ask if he can stay as well, he just does and when the hours tick by and nobody kicks him out, he starts to relax in the armchair Lim put him after he had bandaged up the puncture in Ryan’s arm. He even left him part of their dinner and Ryan has to admit, whoever of the two cooks is truly a master. Shane still hasn’t moved, not even when Ryan wafted the scent of the dinner in his direction and it’s starting to worry him.

 

He wants to ask, wants to call one of the two doctors but Lim told him they would be upstairs in “case of emergency”. This wasn’t an emergency. This was Ryan fretting because… because…

 

Shane stirs. Ryan nearly knocks over the chair as he jumps up and rushes to his side.

 

Part of him wants to grab Shane and shake him and make sure his eyes open and he can look at him again, awake and healthy but he restrains himself. Instead, he crouches in front of Shane’s bed and puts a hand on the one laying on the mattress.

 

“Shane?”

The man in front of him sniffles a bit and then leans his head forward as if he’s expecting Ryan to be in bed with him. Ryan feels his chest constrict when he thinks back to all the times Shane has buried his face in his chest, curling up so tightly despite having endless limbs. He squeezes Shane’s hand and slowly, as if struggling, his eyes open.

“Ryan?”

Shane’s voice is rough and Ryan almost jumps up to grab water. Steven left him a bottle and a glass with a straw, knowing that Shane could use it. But he can’t right now. He reaches out with his free hand and touches Shane’s cheek and Shane closes his eyes again, smiling ever so slightly.

“Welcome back, Stretch.” He says softly and Shane leans against his hand at that.

“Where...” Shane blinks his eyes open again and looks around as well as he can without moving.

“You’re safe here.” Ryan mutters. “We’re at the house of two doctors who work for Jen. Or with Jen, not too sure about that. But they fixed you up.” He can’t keep himself from smiling as he runs his fingers through Shane’s hair again. “You should sleep some more.” His voice drops into a whisper and his throat constricts a little when the whole day finally crashes down on him.

 

Shane could have _died_ , could have bled out on the street and it would have been – at least in some way – Ryan’s fault. He can’t stomach the thought in detail, but even in the broader sense, he feels it rip him apart on the inside.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispers and cups Shane’s face in his hand. Shane frowns. He seems to have trouble focusing on Ryan but he still shakes his head a little.

“Not your fault.” His voice is muffled. “I didn’t see-”

“I should have stopped him-”

They both break off as they start talking over each other and Shane lets out a dry wheeze, causing the tension in Ryan’s shoulders to lessen. He finally gets up to grab the water and once Shane had a couple of sips, he looks a little less gray in the face.

Ryan sits down in front of the bed.

“You need your sleep, Legs.” He says, trying a tone that’s more business than care. “I’ll watch out, it’s fine.”

Shane seems to roll his eyes at that.

“No way, come here.” He reaches out to pull at Ryan’s shoulder and Ryan wants to protest-

“Don’t argue with the injured one. I’ll get mad and throw a fit and pull my stitches or something. Just… get in here.”

Ryan gives in.

 

It’s a tight fit, the bed not really being made for two and Ryan is afraid to hurt Shane as he puts his arms around him, but Shane pulls him in till he can rest his forehead against Ryan’s chest and in that moment, he exhales and melts into the mattress. Ryan puts a hand in Shane’s hair and holds him there while he’s staring at the ugly wallpaper in front of his eyes and allows himself to calm down.

 

Shane is here, right here in his arms. He’s alive and he will recover and he’s holding onto Ryan so tightly that Ryan is worried the guy could injure himself further. Soon, the hold relaxes a little and Shane is slowly but surely falling asleep. Ryan presses his lips together to keep calm, tries to swallow but finds it hard to do. He knows, he needs to address it, needs to figure something out before he destroys himself and Shane as well in the process.

 

He’s too tired to do it right now, but he decides it’s about time he stops pushing things ahead of him, even if he wishes he could just ignore them.

Ryan looks down at Shane’s sleeping face, similar and yet different from his unconscious expression. He almost lost this man and he is sure that had it actually happened, he would have lost his mind and quickly afterwards, his life. He has to tell him.

 

_Tomorrow,_ he thinks.  _I’ll tell him tomorrow, when we’re back home._

 

-

 

He doesn’t.

 

It’s not because NightNight Bergara is acting like a coward. There just isn’t any time. Steven wakes them up the next day. He seems amused at finding them in the same bed but he doesn’t tease them about it. Ilnyckyj makes breakfast for all of them and Shane, already carefully and slowly moving again, sings his highest praises, long enough for Ryan to get slightly jealous and Steven clearing his throat obnoxiously loud whenever Shane starts again. Ilnyckyj – Andrew – seems immensely amused, but also flattered and Ryan can’t wait until they’re back at their home.

 

Once back at their flat, he makes Shane take the medication that the doctors gave them and builds him a sickbed on the couch. In the evening they are watching movies. At first, Ryan sits down in front of the couch, his back to Shane and his head pillowed next to Shane’s shoulder so they can touch at least a little but Shane eventually makes him sit on the couch and puts his head in Ryan’s lap. They fall asleep around ten in the evening and Ryan wakes up about two hours later with a crick in his neck. He doesn’t want to, but he has to wake Shane up to get him in different clothes and into bed. When he helps Shane clean up a bit and change, he gets a good view of the stitched up bullet holes. He carefully places his thumb near the front one and Shane looks down.

 

“Hey.” His soft voice causes Ryan to look up. “I told you, not your fault.”

Ryan grimaces and leans his head against Shane’s shoulder.

“It feels like it’s my fault. To an extent, at least.”

Shane carefully winds his arms around him.

“It’s not. I didn’t pay attention, the guy was more on edge than I thought and I should have known he could start shooting out of nowhere. It wasn’t your job to know that.”

Ryan’s hands tighten around Shane’s hips, despite him wanting to be careful.

“Of course it’s my job. I need to keep you safe. Need to keep you alive, at least. And I fucked up.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Ryan can hear Shane’s breath, slightly hitched and he lets go of him, assuming he’s hurting him. Shane pulls him in and kisses him, soft and slow and Ryan knows that sort of kiss from him too well. He cups Shane’s face and just holds him there for a moment.

“Come on.” He mumbles when they part. “You need to rest more.”

 

-

 

On the second day of Shane’s recovery, he looks better. He still doesn’t look great, but he’s getting some color to his cheek, the medication works and his pain lessens and he eats more than he ever has.

Ryan is actually amused by that and he gladly orders delivery for whenever Shane mentions that he could eat something.

They spend most of the day in bed, with Shane stretched out in the middle, only half on his side now that the pain is slowly lessening. Once he has a huge nest of pillows in his back, he even lays down, part of his upper body propped on the pillows and Ryan brings over his laptop.

They watch Netflix and eat take out and despite them still being in L.A. and Shane recovering from  _being shot_ , it feels so  _normal_ that Ryan could scream.

Shane has an arm around Ryan, who is leaning against his uninjured side and when his wandering fingers trail down Ryan’s arm to squeeze at the bicep and Shane buries his face against the side of Ryan’s neck to nip at the tender skin, Ryan sucks in a breath and pushes him away.

“Hey now. Not that I’m not into that but you need to be careful with your injuries. I mean, Steven didn’t tell me that in detail but I think “no strenuous work” includes fucking, so cool your jets.”

Shane pouts at him, hand coming up to pet at the back of Ryan’s neck and play with the hair there.

“I thought you wanted to make me feel good?”

Ryan snorts.

“I want to make you feel _better_ , as in less shot-through. Sexual healing is not actually a thing.”

“It could be.”

 

Ryan shudders at the tone in Shane’s voice and then teeth scrape the side of his neck, skin immediately soothed by the flick of a wet tongue and Shane’s free hand lingers on his knee, rubs over his leg and moves up and up-

“Shane-” He groans. “Come on, you should get ready for bed.”

“I am in bed.” He can _feel_ Shane’s shit eating grin against his ear. “And so are you.”

“Well, I could get out.” He says, not really meaning it. “Because I know your deal. You like some things we can’t do right now. Most things, actually.”

Still, he pushes himself up to brace himself over Shane on his hands and knees.

“I can’t drag you around by the hair or fuck you raw if you’re like this.”

His fingertips graze Shane’s bandaged side with a feather light touch.

“Can’t even get on top of you to ride you, that would fuck up your stitches, too.”

He presses a kiss to Shane’s stomach and Shane grumbles a little.

“How about this.” Ryan moves his hair out of his forehead to look up at Shane properly. “You will focus on healing and once I decide you’re good, I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll forget your own name.”

Shane hisses and moves his hips a little.

“That doesn’t help my current situation, Ryan.”

Ryan grins at him.

“Well, come on and let me get you to the bathroom, then. They said no showers for a while but sponge baths are okay.”

Shane wrinkles his nose but he lets Ryan get up and slowly help him from a sitting into a standing position.

“Sponge bath, urgh. That makes me sound like I’m ninety.”

Ryan pulls his arm over his shoulder and they slowly make their way towards the bathroom.

“Well, I don’t know how fit I’ll be when you turn ninety, but if I’m capable I would be fine giving you sponge baths, then.”

He feels Shane’s eyes on him after that and he can imagine the surprise. It was a joke, of course, but also not. Ryan doesn’t really see himself as someone who grows old, but as long as he’ll get in life, he is comfortable thinking about spending it with Shane.

 

The bath he runs Shane is only a couple of inches deep but Shane still looks incredibly relaxed as Ryan lowers him into the tub. He picks up the sponge, pushes up his sleeves and starts to help Shane to wash up. He keeps the area with the stitches dry, but makes sure to get rid of the last few smears of blood they missed the days before. He washes Shane’s hair, his head carefully tilted back and Shane’s eyes are closed and his expression is so relaxed that Ryan could believe that he fell asleep. When he rinses him off and helps Shane dry himself and put on some fresh clothes, his partner is still half hard, but he doesn’t try to touch Ryan anymore for now.

He puts Shane back to bed and climbs after him, settling between his legs.

 

“I’ll make things up to you when you’re no longer pierced through, man. I promise.”

Shane is still pouting but he allows Ryan to kiss him and pull him into a comfortable sleeping position on his side.

 

“I think I still didn’t thank you for saving my life.” He starts, but Ryan places his fingers against Shane’s lips.

“Don’t.” He breathes harshly through his nose. “I did what I had to do. Lim and Ilnyckyj saved your life and they will be paid for it.”

Shane’s lips move against his fingers and Ryan pulls them away.

 

They stare at each other in silence. Ryan feels frozen in his spot, Shane’s eyes pinning him down under the intense look in them. Ryan’s afraid to meet his eyes for too long, because he can read that look and he still can’t deal with it.

Instead, he lies down, runs a hand through Shane’s hair and pulls his face against his chest, allowing him to rest there. He feels Shane relax and closes his eyes, unwilling to address how hard his heart is beating in his chest.

 

-

 

Both Ilnyckyj and Lim come over to the apartment sporadically during the next couple of weeks to check on Shane. He is recovering well, according to them and the day Shane is getting his stitches out, he shoots Ryan such a fiery glare over Andrew’s shoulder that Ryan has to leave the room for a moment.

 

He wants to make good on his promise, but there is still some other stuff he has to deal with, like the promises he makes to himself and keeps breaking. Also work.

Jen has given him time off and Ryan was about to protest. She sat him down and told him in his face that he has to get Legs back on his feet – without laughing at the pun – and also that she doesn’t need him in the field if his brain stays back at home with his boyfriend.

 

Ryan wanted to protest even more and he didn’t really know if he should fight the boyfriend thing first or the fact that she questioned his professionalism, but Jen told him to shut the fuck up or he would regret it and since he knows her, he did. The boss texted him afterwards and asked him to keep him updated on Shane’s recovery, so Ryan assumes getting Shane back on his feet _is his work_ for now.

He also assumes he owes both his bosses big time, but that’s alright.

 

When the doctors are gone and they had their dinner, Shane, who has been moving around a bit more lately and complains about not being able to go outside, is over Ryan a lot. Every time they are in proximity of each other, Shane is touching his shoulder and his back. He’s sitting half on his lap when Ryan is talking to Jen on the phone and trailing slow kisses over his neck while they are in the shower. He doesn’t touch Ryan below the belt, but his implications are clear.

 

So, once there are ready for bed and Shane’s arms sneak around Ryan’s chest from behind, Ryan grabs his wrist and twists out of Shane’s hold. He manages to get a hold on both of Shane’s wrists and pushes them up against the wall of their bathroom. It’s a smooth movement, Ryan normally would slam Shane against the surface, but he is still reluctant to do so. Despite the lack of the usual harshness, he can see Shane’s eyes widen and hears his breath hitch.

 

“Ryan- I was just teasing I didn’t-”

“Shut the fuck up.” Ryan growls and latches his mouth to Shane’s throat. The other man moans and drops his head back in an instant, hands flexing but wrists barely struggling in the hold. Ryan starts sucking on one of Shane’s favorite spots and digs his teeth into the skin, worrying it between them before letting go and moving to a spot right next to it.

He marks Shane’s neck and enjoys to hear him whimper and whine in his hold. Ryan pushes his thigh between Shane’s legs and feels him grow hard in his sweatpants. Shane gasps as Ryan tightens his hold on his wrists and pulls him away from the wall, dragging him towards the bed.

 

When Shane seems about ready to throw himself onto the mattress, Ryan holds him back and instead slowly pushes him back till Shane sits and then moves him with a firm hold and slow movements in the middle of the bed. He keeps his eyes fixed on single spots of Shane’s body, unable to look the guy in the eyes, so instead he dives down and drags his mouth over every single spot of naked skin he can find. He leaves kisses and bites and marks over Shane’s pale skin – now even paler after almost three weeks of resting in bed, far away from the California sun. Shane writhes underneath him and whenever he throws himself around a bit too much, Ryan stills him with a firm hand on his hip, his chest, his leg. Shane groans something about Ryan being a tease and Ryan shifts on the bed and braces himself over Shane to claim his mouth. Shane whines softly as Ryan coaxes his mouth open and deepens the kiss. His long fingers fist in the back of Ryan’s shirt and when they tug harder, Ryan complies and moves away to take his shirt off. He undresses Shane, kissing over newly exposed skin and enjoying how the voice above him is growing louder and louder.

 

When they are both naked, he straddles Shane carefully and takes a moment to dig the lube out of the bedside table. Shane has his hands on Ryan’s sides, stroking over his ribs and hips and when Ryan turns back to him, their eyes meet for the first time since they started to make out in the bathroom.

 

Shane’s eyes are huge with the pupils dilated, but there is a certain tone of surprise and disbelief in his expression. His mouth is slightly open as Ryan leans in again to steal another kiss and Shane’s hands tighten on his hips.

When Ryan pulls back, he places a hand on Shane’s chest and carefully pushes him back into the pillows.

 

“Stay, give me a moment.” He uncaps the bottle of lube and spreads it on his fingers, not missing the way that Shane’s eyes follow the movement. Ryan puts the bottle away and reaches behind himself, spreading the lube over his entrance and he hears Shane suck in a breath underneath him. He pushes two fingers inside right away and the stretch is a bit much, just the way he likes it. Ryan grits his teeth and pushes deeper, catching a whimper of Shane underneath him.

 

“Fuck- Ryan. Can I-”

Shane reaches for the lube, but seems to wait for Ryan’s response. Ryan twists the fingers inside of him to spread the lube a bit better, but then he tears them out and curses.

“Okay- Come on, Shane, like that-” He spreads the lube that Shane drizzles on his hand over his fingers and then almost impatiently pulls on Shane’s hand to guide it behind him.

 

Shane’s fingers are longer and more careful as they sink in and Ryan bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from moaning. While he had planned to prepare himself quickly and maybe a little haphazardly, Shane is almost too slow, too careful, too _tender._

Ryan wants to snap at him, but when he looks up at Shane’s face, he’s again regarded with such care and admiration that he shuts up. Instead, he slowly rocks against Shane’s fingers as they spread him and push deeper. He hisses something about Shane feeling good inside of him and a kiss is pressed to the underside of his jaw.

 

“Ryan-”

“I know.” Ryan groans as another finger is added and, yeah, he should have allowed Shane to do this right away, because this is so much better.

“God.” Shane puts an arm around Ryan’s shoulders and pulls him into a kiss.

Ryan groans as three fingers move inside of him, determined to stretch him open, relax his hole and Shane gasps against his mouth:

“I love you.”

Ryan kisses him again, swallowing the words that he already caught and when he can’t take it anymore, he bats at Shane’s arms until the other man withdraws his fingers. He catches them and with his still lube-slick fingers and Shane’s together, he covers Shane’s erection in the rest of the lube, biting his lip as he hears more soft noises underneath him.

 

When he positions Shane underneath him and sinks down, he forces himself to go slow, more for Shane’s sake than his own. He knows he can’t ride Shane hard, even though the stitches are out. But he already knows that Shane doesn’t need to drive repeatedly into Ryan. Shane doesn’t need the slap of skin on skin when Ryan is the one taking it. He is much more affected by the slow roll of Ryan’s hips, the grip against his shoulders or chest or neck and the sight of Ryan losing it above him.

 

Slowly, torturously, Ryan starts to move. Shane’s hands settle on his sides again and with each roll of his hips, Ryan feels Shane twitch inside of him. When he looks down, Shane is staring at him, mouth slightly open and face full of emotion. Ryan reaches for Shane’s hands to press them harder into his hips, but Shane turns them and grabs Ryan’s hands, twining their fingers together. Ryan grunts as he rolls his hips just so that Shane brushes against his prostate and goes along with the movement, pinning Shane’s hands down on the mattress on both sides of his head.

 

They move together like that for a bit, Shane carefully canting up his hips to push into Ryan in time with his movements and Ryan bites his bottom lip as he sees Shane smile up at him.

He tells himself he has to stop, has to look away because Shane isn’t stupid and will see the truth in his eyes and Ryan still isn’t sure how to face it himself.

Instead, he sits up a little, about to untangle their hands, but Shane holds onto them and so Ryan keeps riding the taller man, their fingers entwined between them, not quite holding Ryan up. They speed up a little and Ryan throws his head back, groaning as Shane moves inside of him _just right_ and his toes curl in anticipation.

 

“Ryan-” Shane gasps underneath him and Ryan opens his eyes, drops his head a little to look at him and Shane’s fingers tighten their grip on Ryan’s hands.

“Is this-” Shane gasps once more because Ryan’s thrusts get quicker, sharper. “Are you making love to me?”

Ryan swallows. Instead of answering, he shoves Shane’s hands into the mattress again, dips his head to link their lips and kisses him hard. He doesn’t sit up again. They keep rocking together like that, mouthing at each others lips and when Ryan feels something roll down the side of his face, he pretends it’s sweat.

Shane is whimpering his name as he cums and fills Ryan up and Ryan drinks his name off of his lips, grinds down deeper so he can feel Shane in his core and finally untangles one hand to grab his dick. It doesn’t take long for him to come, a couple of jerks and he covers Shane’s chest in his release.

 

Both of them are panting hard and Ryan still feels Shane twitch inside of him, hears the thrum of his own heartbeat in his ears and shudders as Shane reaches for him and pulls him close.

 

Ryan doesn’t settle against Shane’s chest, he keeps himself braced above him to make sure he doesn’t cause any pain, but Shane won’t let up until their foreheads are touching.

 

“Ryan…” he starts softly, carefully.

“I almost lost you.” Ryan whispers. “I thought you were gone.”

“I’m here.” Shane whispers back and cups Ryan’s face in his hands. “I’m not going anywhere. I love you.”

Ryan breathes out and realizes he’s shaking.

“You don’t have to say it back,” Shane whispers into his mouth, smiling so cheekily as if he’s sharing a secret.

“Shut the fuck up, stretch.” Ryan growls and nips at Shane’s bottom lip. “You don’t get to decide what I have to and don’t have to do.”

Shane chuckles and kisses him some more, hands in Ryan’s hair and eyes shut. He looks relaxed and happy and alive and Ryan slowly pulls back and waits until he sees Shane open his eyes again.

 

He pushes himself on one arm a little and feels the sting in his backside as he shifts but he ignores it. Instead, he brings up his other arm and cups Shane’s chin, tilting his face up as if inspecting him.

They stare at each other, black eyes and brown eyes locked in the silence of their bedroom.

 

Ryan takes a deep breath.

 

“I love you, too.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in the flat, Ryan grabs for Shane’s shirt and yanks him into a bruising kiss. Shane responds enthusiastically and digs his fingers in Ryan’s neck as they both push to deepen the kiss. Ryan feels how raw the skin of Shane’s bottom lip gets under his teeth and he pulls off to bite at the tall guy’s neck instead. Shane gasps and tugs on Ryan’s hair.
> 
> “What’s wrong?”  
> Ryan frowns and pulls back.  
> “Nothing?”
> 
> They stare at each other for a moment, Ryan’s expression is confused and he feels the old irritation bubble up inside of him when Shane looks unimpressed. Before Ryan can ask or start a fight, Shane is pulling him in again, kissing him hard and then Shane’s bottom lip is pushed against the edge of Ryan’s canine and he feels skin give and the first hint of the familiar taste of blood wafts into his mouth-
> 
> Ryan tears himself away as if burned, the taste bringing up the urge to retch and he brings his hand to his mouth. Across from him, Shane looks almost pissed. His face is dark, the thin bead of blood on his bottom lip growing slowly and he looks like Ryan just confirmed something for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay.
> 
> University has started again and I'm also getting more hours at work, so I have been very busy which means this chapter is not as detailed and such. I still hope you guys are enjoying this <3
> 
> Warning for Knifeplay and Bloodplay for the first half!

Shane continues to recover.

 

Ryan didn’t actually expect that he would get the same amount of time away from work as Shane, but when he gets called back into the field, Shane has already recovered enough to move without pain or dangers of injuring himself. Jen decides to keep him away from the front lines, however.

 

“Just until you’re back to full strength,” she says as she shoots down Shane’s complaints. Ryan has to admit that he’s relieved to know that Shane is at a desk assisting and organizing the cleaning crews from the safety of the office instead of running around in the middle of things. He knows Shane isn’t weak or easy to break, but he wants to make absolutely sure that none of them ever makes a mistake like that again.

 

-

 

“You’re stuck on the thought that I could get hurt again, aren’t you?”

Ryan shoots Shane a look. They are having a drink in the bar that started so much all these months ago.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I know you’re capable. I just think that you should be 100% back to your old form before you go on the streets again.”

Shane rolls his eyes and sips his bourbon.

“Not what I meant.” His lips quirk a little. “You’re uncomfortable with the situation because this is _new_ for you.”

Ryan lowers his glass slowly, eyes narrowing.

“You know.” Shane shrugs with one shoulder and glances around to make sure nobody is listening in. “Because you’re in love with me.”

 

Ryan hasn’t said it since the night he told Shane for the first time. The words had almost gotten caught in his throat, but the way Shane’s eyes had lit up when Ryan did get them out had taken all the pain and tightness from him. Still, it didn’t mean that it wasn’t a huge fucking inconvenience. Shane knows what’s going on in Ryan’s head, because he’s not stupid. He can see that it freaks Ryan out, that he had no idea what to do about having feelings this intense, about caring for someone so deeply. Usually, he is quiet and kind about it, but being _Shane_ of course meant that he still enjoyed teasing Ryan about it.

 

Ryan grits his teeth and huffs.

“Shut up.”

“You feel like you have to protect me, now. Because you’re afraid that if something happens to me, you will never get back to normal.”

It’s not a question and Ryan feels how his jaw is starting to hurt.

“I don’t think I have to protect you. I know you’re capable of that.”

Shane chuckles.

“You still want to, right?”

Ryan takes a deep breath and sighs. He’s irritated because Shane is right. Instead of answering, he slams back his drink and throws some money on the bar to pay for it.

“Come on, let’s go home.”

Shane smirks before emptying his own drink and sliding off the bar stool. His hand slips into Ryan’s as they leave and Ryan still thinks that part is strange, if pleasant. The two of them showing their attachment so openly seems like something that doesn’t quite fit them. Originally, he had asked if they should keep it on the down low, so nobody can use one person as leverage over the other, but Shane had just laughed and said that they were probably pretty obvious to the outside world, so it really didn’t matter if they held hands or not. Ryan could accept that. Shane’s palm is calloused and warm and his fingers feel perfect when they entwine with Ryan’s. He’s definitely not going to complain.

 

Back in the flat, Ryan grabs for Shane’s shirt and yanks him into a bruising kiss. Shane responds enthusiastically and digs his fingers in Ryan’s neck as they both push to deepen the kiss. Ryan feels how raw the skin of Shane’s bottom lip gets under his teeth and he pulls off to bite at the tall guy’s neck instead. Shane gasps and tugs on Ryan’s hair.

 

“What’s wrong?”

Ryan frowns and pulls back.

“Nothing?”

 

They stare at each other for a moment, Ryan’s expression is confused and he feels the old irritation bubble up inside of him when Shane looks unimpressed. Before Ryan can ask or start a fight, Shane is pulling him in again, kissing him hard and then Shane’s bottom lip is pushed against the edge of Ryan’s canine and he feels skin give and the first hint of the familiar taste of blood wafts into his mouth-

 

Ryan tears himself away as if burned, the taste bringing up the urge to retch and he brings his hand to his mouth. Across from him, Shane looks almost pissed. His face is dark, the thin bead of blood on his bottom lip growing slowly and he looks like Ryan just confirmed something for him.

 

“I knew it.” His tongue flicks out to lick at the tiny cut in his lip. “What the fuck happened? You used to be so into smelling-”

“I had enough of it for the rest of my life, thank you.” Ryan snaps before Shane can start analyzing him. He stands with his back to the wall as if they are about to throw hands and he can’t help himself, he makes a face at the coppery taste in his mouth. It’s strange for him, too, since it used to be intoxicating to him, the most exciting smell and taste in the forld. For years it had been fueling him. His actions and his aggression. Until-

Shane’s eyes bore into his skull, not letting him move out from under the scrutinizing gaze.

“Really? Because you saw one person that you care about bleed a little more than normal? Suddenly all ideas of blood are yucky to you? I thought you could take more, _NightNight.”_

Shane spits out the nickname like he’s disappointed somehow and Ryan’s nostrils flare.

“You weren’t _there._ Not really at least, not… _consciously._ You didn’t see _how much_ it was. You could have bled out on the street.”

He flinches when Shane’s hands suddenly come up to cup his face.

“I know.” Shane’s voice is soft. “But… Fuck, Ryan, you realize that this is a huge change in what I’m used to when it comes to you, right?”

Ryan searches Shane’s face and frowns.

“Well I’m _sorry_ I can’t play into that particular kink anymore for you if that-”

“Shut up, you idiot.” Shane pulls him closer and brushes his lips over Ryan’s forehead. “It’s not what I mean. I’m talking about trauma.”

That makes Ryan snort and shake his head slightly in the grip, but Shane tightens the hold and growls.

“Don’t. Just because we’re in this line of work doesn’t mean we’re incapable of being affected by this shit. You saw me bleeding out on the street and suddenly you lost your passion for spilling blood? That’s trauma, babe. Like it or not.”

Ryan laughs a bit at the pet-name. It still sounds ridiculous, the two of them and who they are exchanging terms of endearment like people in romantic movies.

“Fine.” He growls and takes Shane’s hands off his face, holding them in his own. “Maybe it left a bad taste in my mouth. But it’s not like I’ll freeze up because of it at work. I just don’t feel like tasting yours anymore.”

There is a glint in Shane’s eyes and he seems to be seizing Ryan up all of a sudden.

“What?”

“Well…” Shane grins a little, teeth glinting in the low light of their home. “I got a proposition. I might have offered it a long time ago and never got around to it…”

Ryan quirks an eye brow.

“I’m listening.”

 

-

 

One image that comes to mind seeing Shane “Legs” Madej at work, despite his body type resembling that of a giraffe, is _predator._

When Shane fights, he is always slightly crouched when he slinks behind someone and strikes out of nowhere with sharp knives and deadly accuracy. Ryan has seen him fight a lot of times and despite his new annoying worries, he can’t wait to see it again. Shane can move like flowing water. His ridiculously long limbs will be tucked close to his form and just before he strikes, his entire body tenses for a moment, only to explode into movement a second after. A cheetah crouching in the grass, a cobra curling up to prepare a strike… And before the other person knows it, they feel a knife sink into their flesh.

 

The tools that Legs uses are well cared for and kept safely in a box when he doesn’t use them. At least one knife is always in reach for him – although Shane could make do with kitchen knives and isn’t bad with a gun either – but the ones that are stowed away for jobs are special. They sit in a wooden box lined with velvet where each of them is resting in their own spot. Shane takes them out on the regular to clean and polish them so they don’t get rusty. Ryan likes to watch him while he does. Long fingers cradling the sharp objects and carefully wiping any dust off before polishing them and testing the sharpness are exciting enough, but Shane is always in deep concentration when he sits down to clean his weapons. It’s a surprisingly relaxing sight. Ryan could watch him for hours and it’s not even the slightly erotic effect of seeing Shane’s fingers glide over them. It’s his focus and the practiced movements that are captivating. Shane truly looks magnificent in these moments.

 

Ryan would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited when Shane sits next to him on the bed, the wooden box cradled in his hands. He gives Ryan a sidelong glance and grins. Ryan huffs out a breath before shaking his head.

 

“Come on, stretch, don’t drag this out more than you have to.”

“Oh but I like teasing you.” Shane grins back with a soft growl. But he does put the box aside and turns to put his hands on Ryan’s shoulders, kissing him again. It’s easy and familiar and Shane doesn’t push for pain or harshness this time, almost as if he thinks Ryan is somehow going to bolt. It’s a ridiculous thought and Ryan grabs at Shane’s hair and tugs on the strands until his partner moans into his mouth. That kicks things into motion as their kisses get more heated and soon he is shoving Shane’s shirt off his shoulders. When he reaches for Shane’s belt, however, Shane grabs his hands and pushes them away before grabbing Ryan by the waist.

Ryan is the stronger one, nobody doubts that, but he sometimes wonders if people know that Shane is absolutely capable of throwing Ryan at least a short distance. His back hits the bed with an _oof_ and he looks up, heart beating faster as Shane crawls over him and grabs Ryan’s shirt to tear it off his body.

Ryan’s wrists are caught by Shane’s fingers as soon as the shirt’s out of the way and he allows them to be pulled up where Shane ties each of them to the headboard, using the neckties the two of them have been wearing earlier. Ryan chuckles as he sees his hands fixed by the two very different bonds, his simple black silken tie and Shane’s ridiculous patterned one.

 

“Good? I know you like a bit of pain but don’t let me cut off all circulation. You need those hands.”

Shane’s voice is rough above him and Ryan looks up at the other man’s naked chest and his slightly flushed face. He tests the bonds, first for his own consideration, then with a little more vigor because he sees Shane zero in on the way the muscles in his arms and chest bulge as he’s tensing up.

He could probably break the bonds if he had to. But if he wants to move without serious effort, they will hold him.

“They’re perfect.” He grins up at Shane as the other man slowly moves to kneel over Ryan’s thighs.

“Good.”

 

With a smile, Shane pulls the box closer and flicks open the lid. In the light of their bedside table lamp, Ryan sees the knives glint. Three throwing knifes, a fixed blade, a switchblade, a butterfly knife and a dagger with a black blade. Shane is now hovering his hands over them, eyes focused and lips pursed and Ryan feels warmth pool in his belly.

“Now.” Shane’s voice is low, as if he’s contemplating. “I know a little bit about the human body… and even though I know you can take a lot, this is not an endurance test.”

He flashes Ryan a grin as if he did a great joke and Ryan rolls his eyes.

“So I’m just going to play with you a little and then see if I can get your sense for bloodshed back, alright?”

Ryan’s fingers flex around the bonds for a moment. A hint of nervousness sits in his stomach, but he’s nodding anyway. Shane moves his hands from where they had been hovering over the blades to Ryan’s chest and runs them down the exposed skin. He moves with it, mouth brushing against one of Ryan’s pecs before kissing and nipping at the skin. His tongue drags down Ryan’s sternum before he returns to placing kisses and soon he is peppering them all over Ryan’s taut stomach and then over to his ribs. Shane’s palms continue to rub over Ryan’s skin, massaging his muscles in slow circles. It’s soothing and warming and Ryan feels himself relax. Shane kisses his hipbone and nips at the sensitive skin right under Ryan’s bellybutton.

 

The things he’s doing to Ryan are definitely taking effect. Shane usually doesn’t get to be a tease much before Ryan makes him pay for it, but Ryan is tied up now and – at least in theory – at Shane’s mercy. For him, it’s a new situation and it’s hotter than he would have originally thought. Seeing Shane braced over him, moving his mouth and hands from sensitive spot to sensitive spot makes Ryan shiver and bite his bottom lip to keep himself from making noises. He is slowly getting hard in his pants, even though Shane is only focused on his upper body. Shane seems to have noticed, because he’s smirking down at Ryan.

 

“I think you’re just in the right stage between relaxed and… not, don’t you think?” He laughs when Ryan rolls his eyes again and then moves to carefully lift one of the knives out of the box. It’s the dagger. Blackened metal glints in the warm light of their bedroom as Shane carefully turns it in his fingers and tests the sharpness. He reaches over to the nightstand and takes a little package from it. Ryan smells the sharp scent of disinfectant when Shane rips it open and then cleans the knife thoroughly with it. He keeps the wipe in the fist of his left hand as he turns back to Ryan. His gaze is intense now and Ryan instinctively swallows and tugs on his bonds. When the cool metal of the dagger touches his wrist right under the bond on his right arm, however, he stills.

 

Shane presses the flat side of the blade against Ryan’s arms and slowly, carefully drags it down his upper arm. It’s cold and feels unrelenting. Harsh. Dangerous. Ryan’s skin breaks out in prickling goosebumps and he feels a slight grin split his lips. Shane with a blade in his hands is always a sight and right now, the calm and calculating man who gets ready to move quickly and deadly to cut someone’s neck is _back._ Except this time he is in their bedroom, which has a different effect. It’s _exciting._

 

Ryan’s eyes follow the blade as it leaves a minute scratch on his bicep. It burns slightly, which is surprising. NightNight Bergara can take a lot. He remembers a day where he escaped three gang members on foot with a sprained ankle and torn tendons. He isn’t weak. But the tiny scratch burns into his skin and sets his nerves aflame, causing his right arm to tense against the bonds. Shane chuckles.

 

He flips the knife lazily in his loose grasp and Ryan thinks about the grip slipping from Shane’s fingers and plunging into his chest. It could easily fall and stab him. His toes curl and his dick starts to strain against the zipper of his pants. Ryan can almost feel it, the shock at the sudden plunge through his chest, the pressure, the way all air would leave his lungs as he tries to understand what happened, then horrid burning turning into intolerable pain-

Instead, the tip of the dagger settles feather light under his left pec and dances over his ribs in a serpentine motion. He shudders as another tiny scratch is left on his skin.

 

“Now.” Shane murmurs and he sets the dagger aside to undo Ryan’s button and fly, slowly working his pants down his legs. He leaves the underwear on, but Ryan is still glad that at least one layer of restraining clothing is gone. With a sigh of relief he lets Shane slip the pants off his legs and push them off the bed. Ryan shifts as Shane settles between his legs. The hand still holding the wet wipe settles on his upper thigh and the cool wet feeling brushes over his warm skin.

 

“Let’s see if I can whet your appetite for this again, babe.” Shane smiles down at him and presses a kiss on Ryan’s knee. Ryan almost laughs as he returns the smile to Shane through hooded lids. Shane is being sweet again and Ryan is slowly getting used to it. There is still an initial strangeness to someone having tender feelings for him and awakening similar feelings in Ryan in return. But there is a certain comfort to it. Even when Shane is holding a weapon that he could use to kill Ryan. Even when his abilities are so great that he could kill Ryan before the other man even notices that something is wrong.

 

His dick twitches at that and when Shane settles the edge of the blade against his leg, Ryan feels like he could cum right then and there. The drag of the blade is cool, sharp and _almost_ painless. It just leaves a slight burn in its wake where the open skin was touched by the alcohol of the wipe. Then the first bead of blood starts to run down his leg and he feels his body grow hot.

 

The scent is familiar. Thick, earthy, like metal and heat and flesh. A bit like sex. A bit like death. Ryan’s heart clenches only for a second but when he meets Shane’s eyes, alive and expectant with the pupils blown wide in arousal, he sucks in a breath and feels the grip around his chest let up. Instead of the cold panic in his lungs, a tight knot of heat forms in his belly and there is the urge to tear the restraints off and push Shane back to pound him into the mattress. With every second of waiting it is increasing and Shane seems to notice what’s going on, because he dips his head in to catch the trickle of blood on Ryan’s leg with his tongue. He is licking up the side of Ryan’s thigh till he closes his mouth over the small cut. Ryan hisses as Shane’s tongue drags over it and then his partner pulls off, presses the hand with the wipe to Ryan’s leg and Ryan hisses at the burn. It’s a firm hold, determined to keep the wound closed till the bleeding stops and Ryan presses his leg against Shane’s hand. Meanwhile, Shane leans over him, mouth slightly opened as he is coming closer and Ryan surges up as far as the bonds will let him to meet Shane in a messy kiss.

 

It’s rough and tastes of blood. Ryan’s blood. Shane’s teeth and tongue carry the taste and Ryan growls, cuts and scratches forgotten. His hips cant up against Shane’s leg and he grins as Shane suddenly moans into his mouth.

 

“What,” Ryan growls as he pulls back. “Are you developing a taste for it?”

“I’ve developed a taste for _you_ a long time ago.” Shane growls back and then he’s suddenly ducking between Ryan’s legs again and tugging the waistband of his underwear down with shaking fingers. The cut on Ryan’s leg has already stopped bleeding and the dagger lies forgotten on the sheets when Shane dives down and gets his mouth completely around Ryan, barely gagging when his lips close around the base. It’s all Ryan needs. The intensity of Shane’s small touches and nips. The excitement about the knives. The care in his partner’s eyes and the determination to reintroduce Ryan to one of this favorite things in the world-

 

Ryan cums down Shane’s throat with the taste of his own blood in his mouth, vision whitening and thoughts full of Shane above him, Shane touching him, Shane working with his knives, _Shane-_

 

-

 

Later while they are lying in bed, Ryan is busy leaving little bite marks and bruises over Shane’s neck, determined to regain full control. He wants to stake a claim on his partner again, who seems to have no problem with that at all. On the contrary. Shane is splayed out beneath him as if surrendering, ready to give all of himself to Ryan. Once Ryan is satisfied with the bruises, he lets Shane settle against his side.

 

“Better?” Shane murmurs against Ryan’s chest. Ryan can see him smiling.

“Yeah.” He runs a hand through Shane’s hair. For a moment, he feels like they are back in their cabin. Far away from everything. Just the two of them. Nights filled with confessions and careful touches. He kind of misses it. But when Shane burrows his face against Ryan’s chest and sighs softly before he falls asleep, Ryan knows this is all he wants for the rest of his life.

 

-

 

Peace can’t last forever. A week later, things are different. Shane has left for home earlier that day and Ryan, having been held up “at work” because he has to find a way to get back home from location, has texted him about his dinner preference. Shane didn’t answer right away and with a bad feeling in his stomach, Ryan abandons the plan to buy food first and drives straight home.

 

When Ryan opens the door, the air in the apartment feels wrong. He’s so used to trusting his instincts that he quickly puts a hand on his gun and closes the door behind him without a sound. He slowly glances around. It’s hard to put his finger on what is tipping him off, but the sudden sense of _s_ _omeone is in the apartment_ rushes through his head and he pulls out his gun and slowly makes his way through the living room, checking every dark corner for possible hiding spots.

 

His pulse is calm but something primal in the back of his head is rearing up, ready to destroy something. If anyone broke into this place- if they laid a single finger on-

With a steady hand, he pushes open the door to their bedroom. It isn’t locked and slightly ajar. The first thing Ryan sees is Shane sitting up in their bed, his back supported by the set of pillows he grabs when his injury aches as it sometimes does and Ryan feels himself deflate slightly. He moves an inch to the left and catches sight of a familiar figure.

 

“Ah! NightNight, so good of you to join us!” A jovial voice calls out and Ryan lowers his gun and steps into the bedroom, less suspicious now, but surprised nonetheless.

“Boss. I didn’t expect to see _you_ here.”

 

Next to their bed, seated in one of their most comfortable chairs sits the Wolf King. He’s dressed to the nines, as always. A white suit with a blue shirt. Tie, shoes that probably cost more than what Ryan earns in half a year, his sunglasses pushed up on his head, pressing down slightly on the well coiffed salt-and-pepper hair and a charming smile in place. He is leaning on his walking stick, a bit of a pretentious accessory for others, but Ryan knows that the guy actually sustained a leg injury quite a few years back when another “family” tried to take him out, so he assumes it’s warranted.

 

“I had to visit your good man here, you know, see how he’s shaping up.” The boss indicates towards Shane who looks almost embarrassed if the shy smile is anything to go by. “Why don’t you join us, Bergara?”

“Uh.” Ryan finally pockets his gun, feeling a little foolish about his reaction now. “Sure. Would you like a drink or-”

The Wolf King indicates to the small table next to him where one of their whiskey glasses is sitting, still full and ice cubes swimming on top. So at least he hasn’t been here for long.

“Of course.” Ryan nods. Shane is a much better host than he is, so naturally he would have made sure that the Wolf King feels welcomed and respected, even if he had to return to bed afterwards. In lieu of another chair in the room, Ryan simply sits down on the end of the bed, facing the boss.

 

“Is there another reason why you came here?”

The older man smirks as he brings his glass to his mouth and takes a sip of the whiskey. Ryan can see the appreciative quirk of a silver eyebrow. It’s a good one. They might not be rich but Shane and Ryan both are the type to pay a bit extra for quality.

“All business now, aren’t you, NightNight?” The boss leans back and gives Ryan a once-over. “You’ve grown up. It suits you well.”

That makes Ryan feel slightly awkward. Ever since he became part of this life, the Wolf King would occasionally check up on him. He wasn’t quite a mentor or a father figure, but he seemed at least a little interested in where Ryan was going and how he was doing.

“Thank you.” He says, because he doesn’t know what else to say. He catches the curious glance in Shane’s eyes in his periphery.

 

Before Ryan can ask again, the boss clears his throat.

 

“I know you two are still kind of on “holiday” and I respect that.” The older man smiles at the ground before shooting both of them a coy smile.

“However, this is a … personal situation I want to figure out and I need people I can trust.”  
The Wolf King lowers his sunglasses.

 

“For now, you two are my right and left hand. Ir’s both a punishment and a curse. You should know that most new applications were really kind of… stupid.”

 

It takes some time, but finally, Ryan and Shane look at each other and nod slowly. Then they burst into giggles.

 

“So.” Shane says after finally regaining his breath. “What exactly do you need, boss?”


End file.
